Journey
by greenk
Summary: Gormogon's other apprentice is back for revenge. Zach and the squints are in mortal danger. Can they solve the mystery of the cannibalistic killer before it's too late? Set between seasons 3 and 4. CHAPTER 12 UP NOW!
1. Chapter 1

ZACK'S POV

Here it is, my first Bones fanfic! Aren't you guys proud? xD

**Disclaimer- **I wish I owned Bones, but I don't. I wish I owned Zack Addy, but I don't. I wish Eric Millegan owned me, but he doesn't. xD

**Author Say's- **Enjoy!

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**ZACK'S POV**

I looked around the small cell-like room. Sure, it wasn't the lab…or my house, but it was a lot homier than prison. Prison. That was where I was supposed to be…considering the crime that I had claimed to commit.

Murder. I shuddered at the thought.

I wondered what my fellow scientists at the Jeffersonian thought of me now, being a "killer." And my family. It seems like years since I have seen any of them.

Each day here is pretty simple.

First, I get served breakfast in my room. Most of the food is water-soluble, for now. They won't even trust me with a fork. They say I haven't reached that point in my "life journey."

I don't take much interest in psychology. Dr. Brennan never really cared for it, so neither did I.

Silverware isn't much use to me right now. I refuse to be fed by anyone other than myself, but because of this, it takes me at least an hour to finish my meal.

The reason that my hands are inferior at the moment is because bandages are still wrapped tightly around each hand…from the explosion. It's been two months now and they still wont let me take them off. The hospital is in the midst of my phalange reconstruction. They've taken some flesh off my gastrocnemius and my gluteus maximus to do some skin graphs on my left pointer finger, middle finger, and thumb. My ring finger and pinkie finger on the left hand are, more or less, destroyed. On my right hand they are doing graphs on every finger except my pinkie. The fingers which cannot be reconstructed will be replaced by prosthetics.

They do not know how long these surgeries will last. I estimate that I'll have my bandages on for two and a half months more.

I would be able to calculate more accurately, but these sedatives they put me on cloud my brain. Every time that I ask them if using sedatives on patients in the mental ward is legal, they simply walk away. I suppose the reason that they put me on them is because they render me "dangerous," though with these bandages, there is little that I could possibly do to harm them.

But back to the schedule.

At precisely 10: 15 am, the ward let's in visitors. The visitors can only come Sunday through Wednesday and only one visitor is allowed access into the facility per mental patient.

I haven't had any visitors yet.

They bring me out of my room out at visiting time and put me into a small cubicle in a row of about ten cubicles. Each cubicle is occupied by one man. All of the men in my row have been brought in for murders.

Jonathan Brandy, the man to the right of my cubicle who murdered two cops, has a visitor everyday.

Her name is Sandy Smithers and she is his ex-fiancé. She has obtrusive cheek bones and incredibly white blond hair that is most certainly bleached. I would say her natural hair tone is a sandy brown considering that her hair turns more like that color toward the end of each month.

Over all, I would say that she is fairly attractive.

Mr. Brady and her are no longer engaged, Sandy tells me, though there is an "undeniable spark" between them.

That's what she says at least. I for one see no spark. She's not really supposed to be talking to me, but seeing that I have no one else to converse with, I frequently rebuff the rule.

Everyday she asks me if I want her to blow me a kiss good bye. Everyday my answer is the same, "If you would like to, Miss Smithers."

She breaks into a fit of giggles whenever I say that. I never thought it was so humorous.

When visiting hour is up, at 11:15 am, we report back to our cells.

At 12:30 pm, lunch is served. It is very similar to breakfast.

At 2:00 pm, I begin therapy. These sessions are conducted by Dr. Melissa Calder. She asks me series of questions which I answer as simply as possible.

"_Why did you become Gormagons's apprentice, Mr. Addy?"_

"It's Dr. Addy actually. I completed my degree when…"

"_**Dr. **__Addy, answer my question."_

"He made me feel important.'

"_Why did that make you feel important?"_

"I was his apprentice."

"_Why was being his apprentice important?"_

"I was the second in command and was being trained by him."

"_I know what an apprentice is, Dr. Addy. I want to know why it was important to be his apprentice."_

"I just told you."

That's about the time that she picks up her briefcase and leaves.

At 4:30 pm, another psychiatric therapist comes in. His name is Dr. George Donovont. He does not ask me anything. He does not talk at all, except for a, "Hey there Dr. Addy," when he comes in.

At least he gets my name right.

Dr. Donovont observes my movement, my facial expressions, and my over all behavior. I think that his job is extremely ridiculous.

At 6:15 pm when he finally leaves, I am served dinner. Dinner is almost the same as breakfast and lunch, only I get a piece of texas toast accompanying the bowl of mush. I have never cared much for texas toast. It is far too greasy and the butter that is put on top could never be natural. They over season it with garlic and toast it until it turns all crumbly.

I must admit, though, that I have acquired a taste for the toast. It tastes much better than mush.

At 8:00 pm, Dr. Calder comes in to check on me again. This time, she doesn't ask questions. If she does, it's just small talk.

"_How are you, Mr. Addy?"_

"It's Dr. Addy. We already went over this."

"_Dr. Addy."_

"I'm well."

"_Just well?"_

"Am I supposed to be doing better than well?"

"_Well…no…I guess not."_

"Good."

"_Have you ever seen the movie Charlotte's Web?"_

"What?"

"_Charlotte's Web. It's my daughter's favorite movie. She's five and I'm going to get it for her birthday next week when she turns six."_

"I don't recall…"

"_A talking pig becomes friends with a talking spider, and the spider saves his life from the farmer who is planning to slaughter him."_

"No. I've never seen it."

"_You never got out much, did you?"_

"Not really."

At 9:15 pm, the lights are dimmed and I change into my outfit for tomorrow with some help from Dr. Donovont. It is rather infantile having to be helped by someone else while getting changed.

When I get into bed, I normally stare at the picture Angela once drew for me when I was king of the lab, which I taped to the cell wall, until I drift to sleep.

--

I took me forever, so please don't tell me my work was in vain.

R+R. Constructive criticism craved!

GreenKataang


	2. Chapter 2

I'm so incredibly excited about writing this fanfic, words cannot describe! Thanks to all those who have subscribed and reviewed already!

**Disclaimer- **I still don't own Bones. To my great disappointment Eric Millegan still doesn't own me. xD

**Author Says- **Review or perish?

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Her alarm clock buzzed for a half an hour before Temperance Brennan finally tumbled out of bed. She had to admit that she hadn't got much sleep since the night of Zach's confession, but only to herself. From the outside, she was still Dr. Brennan. She was never late, worked extra hours, and always managed to keep a clean, fresh appearance. On the inside, her heart hoped fervently that all of the new grad students that she was interviewing to replace young Dr. Addy would be deep disappointments. She couldn't let herself make the same mistake again. She couldn't train someone for more than three years just to watch them fall farther down than they were in the first place.

These thoughts stayed with her as she took a long shower, dried her hair, and put on her lab coat.

She was not all too surprised when she exited her apartment to come face to face with Agent Seely Booth standing in the hallway.

"What are you doing here, Booth?"

"I'm not letting you drive yourself to work again, Bones. We haven't had a _real_ conversation in at least a month," Seely Booth firmly stated.

"I am perfectly capable of driving myself to work and your alpha male tendencies are really pressing on my nerves," scoffed Bones as she made her way down the stairs.

Booth rolled his eyes, shut her apartment door, and ran to catch up with her.

"Bones! Bones. Bones. Bones. Bones," he panted, "Wait up!"

"I told you Booth. No." she said as she climbed into her car and buckled her seatbelt.

Booth caught a hold of the door. "Please, Bones," he begged, "Please?"

Dr. Temperance Brennan sighed. She'd never get to work on time if he didn't have his way.

"Fine, Booth! Just…stop making that face at me!"

Seely Booth let go of the door and motioned for her to slide over. She did to her reluctance.

"Keys?"

Bones handed the keys over on his command. He would drive her insane someday soon, she swore.

"So…" she smirked.

"Huh?"

"What did you want to talk about?"

"I…uh…well," he stammered.

Bones turned to the window, trying to conceal her satisfied smile all the way to the Jeffersonian.

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"Angela? You're here early," Cam remarked striding through the door of Angela's office.

"I've been busy. Bren wants this picture complete by this afternoon," Angela lied.

Cam raised her left eyebrow in suspicion.

"Okay," Angela confessed, "I've actually been meeting with Sweets before work every morning."

Now both of Cam's eyebrows were raised.

"Things haven't been so hot with Jack. He's really depressed, but you've probably noticed. You've been the same way."

Dr. Saroyan sighed. Angela had her pegged.

"You're right. I haven't been so wonderful these past few months. I'm not the only one, though. Even you haven't been yourself," the former cop remarked.

"Well of course not," Angela scoffed, "Zach was family. He practically _lived _with Hodgins, for Pete's sake. I loved him. I mean…I still love him, you know, like a brother."

"He doesn't deserve our friendship, Miss Montenegro, let alone our _love_."

"You know you don't mean that, Cam. I mean, you said yourself…well what did you mean by saying you knew he would hurt you as soon as you met him?"

Cam bit her lip, but before she could answer, the noisy partners came bursting through the door.

"For the last time, Bones, I believe that I need to confess my sins because it makes me a better person!"

"It's totally illogical. How can going to a confession with a man in flowing robes and a headdress signifying power possibly make you a better person?"

"It just does, okay?" Booth turned to the open mouthed Angela.

"Finally got her to come to work with you?" she questioned in shock.

Booth opened his mouth to say something right as Jack Hodgins ran through the door.

"Sorry that I'm late, I had to…" he stopped mid-sentence, "Hey, Ange. I thought I was supposed to pick you up, but then you didn't…answer the door, and…"

Angela sadly shook her head, took her drawing pad, and marched out.

"What's wrong with her?" Jack directed his question toward Cam.

"I think you need to spend more time with her." Cam replied and walked out, as well, followed by the still arguing couple.

Dr. Hodgins sat down in Angela's chair.

"What the heck was _that_ all about?"

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"These bones belong to a male Caucasian, his age ranging from about 40 to 45 years," Dr. Marissa Chase, young grad student, answered confidently, "These fractures on his left metacarpal show that when he was about 25 years of age he experienced some damage to it while participating in some sort of extracurricular activity. It was most likely golf."

"Yes," Dr. Brennan responded, "Only his fractures were caused most definitely while participating in tennis and his age range is more around 35 to 40 years. It was a thoughtless miscalculation."

Melissa looked down at the floor in embarrassment.

"Bones…" Booth grumbled from behind.

"What?" she snipped and shot him a look that shut him up immediately.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Dr. Chase," Dr. Brennan muttered looking down at the evaluation papers that she held.

Melissa Chase stumbled over her black, leather shoes as she quickly walked to the exit.

"Rough day, Bones?" Booth remarked.

"Why would you say that?"

"God, Bones, must I spell it out for you? You scared that girl half to death."

"She's a grown woman, Booth. I'm sure she can take some criticism. Don't be so melodramatic."

"I think he's right Bren," Angela walked over, "You haven't given any of these grad students a fair chance."

"They should know what they are getting themselves into, Ange. I need to pick someone who is prepared for the stress of a high risk job such as this. I need someone who won't make mistakes. Our whole purpose is accuracy." Bones retaliated.

"Sweetie, think of Zach and how he was when he started out."

Bones grimaced in pain.

"I think I'll take her home now," Booth whispered in Angela's ear before turning around, "Come on Bones."

He grabbed her arm and went to lead her out of the building.

"Dr. Brennan!" a woman's voice sounded out, "Wait!"

Temperance spun around to see a startled Dr. Saroyan half-running, half-jogging, to catch up to her.

"It's a package. I don't know where it could have come from. I found it on my desk…and…it's addressed to you."

The forensic anthropologist's eyes widened as she hesitantly reached for the box.

"Booth, hand me my keys."

Seely handed her the keys without any protesting. It was an order.

Dr. Brennan took the keys in her quivering hands and sliced open the cardboard box. She opened the flaps and stared down at the bones that the box held.

"It's a set of female phalanges …" Dr. Brennan gasped as she looked closer at the contents of the package.

"What is it, Bones?" Booth murmured, sensing her frantic tone.

"Cam…come see this…" she motioned Cam over with her left hand.

"Is there something wrong?"

Dr. Brennan nodded, "Cam?"

"Yes?"

"Do these look like…_bite marks_ to you?"

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Dun, dun, dun! I wouldn't say this chapter is as well written as the previous one, but I loved writing the ending. I gave myself goose bumps. xD

Expect a new chapter featuring Zach, soon! :]


	3. Chapter 3

Forgive me. I did not put too much thought into this chapter while writing it. I don't know how I'm going to finish it all. Luckily, I put a lot of thought into the chapter last night. It was all I could think about.

**Disclaimer-** If I owned Bones, I'd be off to London to shoot the next 2 hour long episode that will open the 4th season. I would not be writing this fanfic. Also, if I owned Bones, people would faint at the quality of my fanfics. They would be brilliant…unlike the poor excuses for fanfics that I write now, like this one.

**Another Disclaimer-** I must point out to you that I _do_ own Sandy Smithers, Dr. Calder, Dr. Donovont, Melissa Chase/the grad student, and Jonathan Brady.

**Author Says- **Enjoy? Perhaps…

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Zack Addy marched down to his cubicle. It was 10:13 which meant that in just two minutes, he would be wishing that he was anywhere but in the mental facility watching everyone but him get a visitor.

Sandy Smithers jogged in right on schedule, wearing a slimming purple dress that was dangerously low.

"Do you like my dress Zach?"

"Excuse m...me?" spluttered Zach.

"I said," Sandy batted her mascara covered lashes at the young genius, "Do you like my dress?"

Dr. Addy swallowed, "It's very…flattering, Miss Smithers."

Sandy Smithers snorted and took a seat in the chair across from Jonathan Brady. The two began to chat about trivial things such as the presidential campaign and taxes. It wasn't as if Mr. Brady would get a chance to vote any time soon.

Zack took his new possession in his hands, a Rubik's cube given to him by Dr. Calder. At least she _tried_ to be nice...sometimes. He twisted the puzzle left, then right, then right again. He almost had it...about five more spins would complete it…

"Dr. Addy!" a gruff voice called, "You got a visitor!"

Zach barely looked up. As the figure approached, Zach did not acknowledge their presence. He was absorbed into his box-shaped puzzle.

"Hey, Zach," Sandy Smithers giggled as she fiddled with the shirt line on her overbearing dress, "You never told me you had a girlfriend! A pretty one at that."

Zach peeked up at the face of his visitor.

"Dr. Brennan!" he dropped his puzzle on the floor of the cubicle.

Temperance Brennan looked down at the panicked face of young Dr. Addy and smiled in spite of herself.

"Hello, Zach."

The young man picked up his cube and bit his lip, unable to speak in utter shock.

"What's that?"

"W...what?"

"What are you holding?" Dr. Brennan asked, pointing to the colorful cube in Zach's hands.

This broke the ice, slightly.

"It's a Rubik's cube. The point is to align all the colors on each side to be the same. I am almost finished," he twisted it a few times until it was complete, "There."

"I think I had one of those when I was younger. My fastest time was 12 minutes," the anthropologist bragged, lightly.

"I can memorize every turn that I make on the cube, as I did when…being taken to Gormagon's house," he paused and sighed, "My fastest time is 8 minutes. It's not significantly faster than your time," he added, trying hard not to boast.

"I always knew you were brilliant, Zach," she murmured.

The two left it at that for about 20 minutes. They sat in silence. No conversation was required.

Bones analyzed Zach Addy. She wasn't great at reading people, but she could tell that her former student was deeply distressed. He was grimacing, and he would not turn his eyes to her for even a glance. She misconstrued his downcast face, though, thinking he felt betrayed or angry at her for "turning him in," so to speak.

In reality, Zach was willing himself, begging the painful tears to remain unseen.

A call from a guard signaled the visitors that they only had 10 more mintues with their loved ones.

"Zach?" Temperance tried at last.

"Yes?"

Zach tried to swallow the 'Dr. Brennan' that usually followed this single word. It brought back too much pain to say the phrase that constantly echoed through the lab during an investigation.

Brennan ignored his struggle, "I have something to tell you."

Dr. Addy nodded, urging her on.

"Take a look at this."

She presented him with the box of bones and he examined them through the screen that separated him from his mentor.

"What can you tell me about these bones?" she quizzed.

Zach immediately registered what she was saying and switched gears, from "insane" Zach to the Zach that she loved and remembered.

"It's a set of Caucasian, female phalanges, age ranging from 20 to 22 years. They were removed from the right hand by a large kitchen blade. It appears that they were completely soaked in bleach to remove all fingerprints and blood traces. Whoever did the job was extremely professional about it."

The older forensic anthropologist bit her lower lip and grinned. He was still the same Zach. Still her brightest student.

"But…Dr. Brennan?" he started, "I don't see how this is…relevant to me."

Brennan's face was grave in a flash, "Examine them closer."

Zach pushed his face closer to the screen. He let a small yelp of recognition escape his lips. _"Oh no…"_

Sandy Smithers looked over at Zach and then ran out of the room with a squeal, after seeing the contents of the box.

"There are…small indentations…" Dr. Addy strained, "…which appear to be…bite marks."

"And they are," Dr. Brennan reassured him, thinking he was doubtful because of the pauses in between his words, "Do you know who the bite marks belong to Zach?"

Zach twisted his head away from her anxious glare. His suddenly felt the urge to gag.

"Times up!" the guard bellowed.

By now all of the visitors had left except for Temperance Brennan.

"I'm with the F.B.I. and I need Dr. Addy's assistance on something. It is pertinent to the case," Temperance contradicted holding up a badge that most definitely belonged to a certain agent that happened to work with her, "I can stay as long as I need to."

The guard just grunted in disgust and herded all of the patients back to their rooms. He did not look back at them.

All of a sudden Bones grabbed onto the screen separating them and pleaded with the younger doctor, her big crystal blue eyes sparkling with desperation.

"I must know Zack. Was it Gormagon?"

"No," he answered truthfully, "The teeth marks were not made from a set of canines."

Dr. Brennan glared at him, not knowing whether to believe him or not.

"I promise you, Dr. Brennan," Zach assured, sensing her uncertainty.

"Then who made the marks? Was it…was it you?"

"No," stated the young forensic anthropologist, aghast that she would even suggest that.

In the pause that followed, Zach decided to change the direction of the conversation.

"Is Agent Booth here?"

Dr. Brennan sighed, "Yes, Zach, he is in the car, but that doesn't answer my question," she was on the brink of losing it.

"Your question?"

"Yes, Zach! My question!"

Zach covered his face up in his outstretched hands and let out a long moan.

Dr. Brennan took to whispering, "Was there anyone else?" her voice could barely be heard now, "Was there another apprentice?"

"I can't tell you that," Zach muttered into his hands.

"Why not, Zach?" she whispered harshly, "There's nothing for you to lose anymore. Just tell me."

Zach cleared his throat and looked up at her with the most incredibly frightened expression that she had ever witnessed him make.

"Yes," he rasped. His voice sounded incredibly hollow.

Dr. Brennan exhaled and he continued.

"Yes, there was somebody else. Somebody more dangerous than Gormagon himself"

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Review…please. It motivates me to write the next chapter as fast as I can.

I praise all who have already made my day by writing reviews. :]

Plus…I brought Zach a visitor!

But heck, even if you _didn't_ want Zach to get a visitor, I still would've given him one.

Thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

I am incredibly excited about this chapter. I really hope it doesn't upset any of you…just...read it. Ok?

**Disclaimer- **I don't own Bones, ok! Hart Hanson does! If you think that I am he, then you have probably suffered a head injury as of late.

**Author Says- **I have a whole speech outline that I just neglected to bring you this, so READ! Please. xD

--

"Sign here, here, initial here, here, and here. Done! He's yours for the day!" the secretary exclaimed over the 10 pages of paper work.

"Thank you," Dr. Brennan commended the woman for her work, "Come along, Zach."

Zach stood still, "Where are you taking me?"

"To the lab. You just confessed that Gormagon had another accomplice. You're the only one that could possibly solve the case."

Zach ran to catch up with her, leaving the Oakland Mental Facility behind him.

"Dr. Brennan, are you allowed to take me out of here?"

Bren almost laughed, "I work for the F.B.I. Of course, I am."

The two slowly made their way to the car. Temperance Brennan opened the back door open for her colleague seeing that he couldn't possibly get in the car, himself, and then hopped in on the passenger side.

"A stowaway?" Booth chuckled darkly, "Hello, Zach."

"Agent Booth," Zach Addy nodded, genuinely intimidated.

They began to drive away from the mental hospital, and Zach looked back. He had always imagined the moment that he was set free as a magical one, but he didn't feel magic. All he felt was grief.

"Now," Booth started, "Can someone explain to me why there is an Oakland mental patient in my car?"

Zach curled up into a defensive ball on the car seat, looking very much like a scared 5-year-old.

"I believe Zach can tell you exactly why he's here. Zach?" Bones spoke up.

"I'd rather not," he mumbled into his arms.

Booth rolled his eyes, but Dr. Brennan decided to take matters into her own hands.

"Fine," she said to Zach, but then turned to face Booth, "Zach just admitted that he wasn't Gormagon's only apprentice."

"There's another one?!" Booth exclaimed incredulously.

Bones just nodded.

"You mean there was another person working for Gormagon, Zach? And you didn't tell us?"

"The Master, actually. Not Gormagon."

"Zack!"

"Yes, Agent Booth. He had another apprentice."

"A very dangerous one?" Brennan hinted for Zach.

"Yes. Extremely."

The rest of the half an hour ride was spent in awkward silence.

"We're here!" Booth finally called and Zach looked up at the place he had once called his second "home."

"I can't go in," he whispered.

Dr. Brennan's eyes narrowed in confusion, "No one is mad at you, Zach. Honestly."

"It's not that…it's just...it's too dangerous," he tried to explain.

Booth was tired of the hold up. He opened the door and grabbed Zach by the collar, "Let's go."

Zach Addy followed, nervously stumbling over his feet.

The first person to see him was Angela. She covered her mouth to stop herself from crying out.

Cam saw him next. She walked over to Angela and whispered in her ear.

"I'll give you ten minutes to compose yourself."

Angela nodded and ran to her office for some tissues.

Hodgins was the only one who looked relieved to see him.

"Zach! My man!" he shouted and bounded up to greet Zach by smacking him on the back in a friendly gesture.

"I don't deserve your friendliness, Dr. Hodgins."

Hodgins backed away, with a hurt expression on his face. But, he brushed the coldness of young Dr. Addy off, and went over to the examination table to continue his work.

"What do you have for me Hodgins?" Dr. Brennan questioned.

Hodgins shook his head, "Nothing. The sliver of bones that you carved off for me…it was boiled in _bleach_. No evidence."

"That's what I said," Zach muttered, stepping closer to the examination table.

"You ran everything? Blood tests? Fingerprint tests?" Temperance demanded an answer.

"Yes, yes. Everything."

"Zack," the female doctor pleaded, "Is there anything that you can tell me?"

Dr. Addy turned away and shook his head, "It's too hazardous. You shouldn't have brought me here."

Brennan scrutinized his stance and furrowed her brow. _"What on earth does he mean?"_

"Jack!" Angela called through her office door, "We're going to be late!"

Hodgins cursed under his breath.

"Late for what?" Booth inquired of him.

"Therapy. Ange got us a psychological session with Sweets."

Booth burst out laughing as Dr. Jack Hodgins trudged away to meet his fate.

--

"So…" Sweets smiled, "Let us begin."

Angela pursed her lips and Hodgins slumped deep into his chair.

"First of all, Angela tells me that you have seemed distant to her, Jack. Care to explain?"

"_First of all_ don't _ever_ call me Jack again. _Secondly_, my best friend is in the mental ward, and I can't marry my beautiful girlfriend because her husband refuses to sign the divorce papers!"

"You know this is more about Zach than it is about my marital issues, Jack," Angela sternly warned, "Don't blame it on me. You were fine with searching for my husband, until Zach got hurt and…went to Oakland. "

"Do you have anything to say to that, Dr. Hodgins?" Sweets asked.

"No," Hodgins hissed instantly.

"Why not?"

"Because, this is just a conspiracy. You work for the government, trying to get people to spill their guts and give you their personal information."

Angela nudged him, but Sweets just laughed.

"Suit yourself. Angela, what draws you to Dr. Hodgins?"

Hodgins sat up immediately. He had to hear this.

"Well," purred Angela, "He's extremely romantic, with the roses and stuff, and he's sensitive, which is a hard trait to find in a guy. Plus, I think his conspiracy theories are completely adorable."

Hodgins and Angela shared a brief kiss, while Sweets cleared his throat.

"Well, then. I'm glad we got all that out on the table. I'll see you two the same time tomorrow."

Hodgins leapt up from his chair.

"What?!"

--

Zach Addy bit the inside of his cheek. He was so sick and tired of lying to himself about the whole ordeal.

"See anything, Bones?"

Bones groaned and gave him a sideways glare, "For the last time, _no_."

"Well then. I guess we'll have to wait until Pinocchio here…" Booth jutted his thumb at Zach, "…decides to tell the truth."

"I don't know what that means," both Dr. Addy and Dr. Brennan complained in unison.

The two anthropologists shared a confused glance.

"My god!" exasperated Agent Seely Booth pounded his fist on the investigation table.

Angela sauntered over to the table, "Hi, Zack," she almost whispered.

"Hello, Angela" Zach managed to shoot her a sideways smile.

"How are your hands," she questioned, concerned.

Zach stared down at his bandaged hands.

"I'll manage," he finally answered.

"How bad are they?"

"I'm getting three prosthetic phalanges, two on my left hand and one on my right."

Angela pulled him into a warm embrace, "I missed you, Zacharoni. All of us have."

Zack pulled away and shrugged his shoulders.

Dr. Brennan wished more than anything that she could show that kind of affection to her young former student, but she wasn't that kind of person. Maybe that's what had gotten Zach into the whole mess. _"Maybe I wasn't there for him enough…"_

"Where's Hodgins?" Booth grunted.

Angela waved her hand, dismissing his absence, "Jack and Sweets are arguing over whether the government keeps secret cameras in the bathrooms of historical museums or not. He should be back, soon enough."

"Could you bring him back now, please?" asked Bones, apprehensively.

"Why, Sweetie? Did you find something?" Angela raised her eyebrows.

"Yes. Yes, I did."

Angela ran halfway to Sweets office and shouted so loud that everyone in D.C. probably heard her.

"JACK! COME HERE! BREN FOUND SOMETHING!"

Soon enough both Dr. Hodgins and Dr. Sweets were standing around the table, as well. They were joined by Cam who was reprimanding Angela for yelling halfway across the Jeffersonian.

"What did you find, Bones?" Booth tilted his head to the side.

Brennan cleared her throat, "I cracked apart one of the phalanges…by sheer accident, mind you. I would never harm the specimen. But, I found this."

She held up a tiny shinning piece of gold that couldn't have been bigger than a pencil tip.

"Dude, is that gold?" Jack reached out for the object between Dr. Brennan's right pointer finger and thumb, but she swatted him away.

"As a matter of fact, yes."

Zack spoke out, "It's a filling."

The whole team stared at him and he pointed to the gold in between the older anthropologist's fingers.

"It's a molar filling made of pure gold. Am I correct?"

Dr. Brennan stared at the fleck of gold and gasped.

"Y…yes. You are correct."

All of a sudden a shot rang out through the Jeffersonian, then another and another.

The team screamed and most of them crashed to the floor covering their heads.

And then the gunshots ceased.

The special agent and the rest of the squint squad looked up, trying to see the intention of the person who had suddenly started shooting at them.

And everyone knew who the target had been when they looked up to see the wounded Dr. Zach Addy tumbling to the ground.

--

I'm sorry. I shot him! I can't believe I did, but I shot him! He's not dead, though. I guarantee that. Not dead. God, no. Hope you enjoyed, yet, another cliffy!


	5. Chapter 5

Here it is! It's my fifth chapter! I really felt compelled to write this more sensitive chapter, and really hope you enjoy it!

**Disclaimer- **Why in the world would I be on here if I was Hart? I don't own anything except for the characters that I listed on the other page, so just give it a rest already! xD

**Author Says- **This is more of a heartfelt chapter. You'll either love it because it is, or hate it for lack of action. Either way, review please. :

--

Dr. Brennan and her team of "squints" plus Booth were all anxiously awaiting to hear the fate of young Zachary Uriah Addy. It was left unsaid by the doctors if Zach had a chance of pulling through, but nobody felt extremely unconfident.

Bones replayed the scene in her head…his lifeless body falling to the ground. The extent of the injury, she had witnessed, and it was fairly serious.

She had yelled at the doctors and nurses involved for not exposing more information. Normally, this behavior would have been stunted by Booth. This time, he let her yell. Truth be told, he wanted her to yell. Booth was just as anxious as the rest of them.

The only one that did not seem completely phased by the earlier events was…Cam.

Angela and Hodgins were snuggled close to each other on the waiting room bench. Any other time, it would have been a tender position, but considering the circumstances, it was anything but romantic.

Booth wouldn't let go of Brennan…except when she got up to yell at another surgeon. Frankly, Dr. Brennan didn't care. Perhaps tomorrow she'd accuse him of being overly protective and demonstrating his alpha male tendencies, but for now she was as content as possible in his comforting arms.

Even Sweets looked panic stricken, in a way. His hair was standing straight up, suffering from the number of times his fingers had run through it, during the past few hours.

He silently cursed himself for displaying such unreasonable conduct, for a psychologist who was supposed to be cool and collected.

Cam, however, was sitting rigidly in her seat, staring straight ahead at the colorful wall patterns. It wasn't as though she was looking at the patterns, though. It almost seemed that she was trying to see past the wall, at something unbeknownst to anyone else.

Angela studied Cam's position and a shiver ran through her body. She was behaving, like...well like…Bren. Cam was trying to distance herself from the world, much like her best friend who had been doing the same her whole life.

"Booth?" she whispered into the agent's ear. He was sitting in between the two best friends.

Booth raised his eyebrows as if to say, _"Yes?"_

"Can you take your hands off your partner for a second and allow me to talk to her?"

Booth removed his hands in an abashed manner and sent her a glare, before standing up and stretching his legs.

Dr. Brennan shuddered with the sudden loss of bodily contact, but saw Angela motion her to scoot down a seat and did so.

"I want you to talk to Cam." Angela tilted her head to the side, like a little girl begging her father for a doll.

"What? Why?"

"Because …" she silently spoke, "…she looks exactly like you did when you…thought Booth was…dead."

Temperance Brennan glared at her friend for even bringing up the horrid event.

"She needs you, Sweetie…"

On that note, Bren sighed and with slight hesitation, moved over to sit by Cam.

Dr. Saroyan barely acknowledged Brennan's appearance. She just turned her face in the anthropologist's direction and, with her eyes downcast, muttered something unrecognizable.

"Cam…" Bones started, awkwardly, "I understand that this is really affecting you, but you don't have to act like this."

"What did Dr. Sweets do to you?" Cam retaliated, with dull humor ringing through the sentence.

"I don't know what that…" Bren started, but then halted herself when she realized that Cam wasn't paying attention.

And then she did something completely unlike anything that she would normally do. She gave Cam a sideways hug.

Now Cam was paying attention.

"Dr. Brennan?"

"Listen, Cam," the scientist began, "I know how you feel. I loved Zach…almost as much as you do."

Cam's eyes widened.

"You feel like…no one can see you at such a weakened state. And then, your wall begins to build up, and you try to keep everyone out of your heart because you don't think they could possibly care enough about you to understand. Well…" she let go of Cam, "…we do care about you Cam. A lot."

At this time a doctor made his way out of the younger anthropologist's room and made a long-awaited announcement.

"All visitors can come in, now."

Cam mumbled a solemn "thank-you" and got up to go enter the hospital room with everyone else.

Before Bones could go inside the room, though, a strong hand that belonged to none other than her partner, grabbed her shoulder. He'd witnessed the whole scene.

As she turned to face him, he bowed his head, "Bones?"

"Yes, Booth?"

"Do you remember what I said about 'brain and heart'?"

"Of course, Booth," she meant it.

"Well, Bones…" he smiled at her with a glimmer in his eye, "You just nailed it."

--

Zach Addy woke up in a hospital room surrounded by anxious squints and even a nervous F.B.I agent.

"_A dream? All that? Could everything with the mental hospital have been a nightmare? A figment of my imagination?"_

Zach's questions were answered as he moved his left leg and winced as pain shot up his thigh. Yes, that pain was not there before and couldn't have possible resulted from the explosion.

"Is he awake?" a voice whispered.

Zach couldn't put a definite face to the voice, but he believed it was Cam.

"Not quite…" he groaned in agony, "…but I'm getting there."

Hodgins smiled, "Welcome back."

Zach shook his head and grimaced, opening his eyes to the brilliant light steaming in from the windows, "Would someone kindly tell me why I'm here…again?"

Dr. Brennan, who was sitting motionless on the uncomfortable seat beside him, reached out and grabbed his shoulder, "You were shot, Zach."

Young Dr. Addy thought for a moment, _"Ah, yes. There was the filling and then the gunshots…"_

"Was anyone else hurt?" he sat up and let out a painful cry, before surveying the room. Everyone was there, and everyone was ok.

He let out a sigh of relief.

"Is this what you were trying to tell me, Zach?" she asked, "Is this why it was dangerous."

Zach shook his head, "No. My only fear was that he would…go after...all of you."

Dr. Brennan shot a worried glance at Booth who responded with a glance that said, _"Get the information out of him!"_

She sighed, "Zach, we really must know who it is…the person behind all this."

"No."

Bones looked like she'd been slapped. This was the first time that he'd ever contradicted her.

"Not unless you want to end up, like me," he muttered grimly.

Then he sat up a little more with realization,_ "Right, I was shot..."_

"What is the extent of my injury? Where did the bullet pierce me?"

Bones bowed her head, trying to recall all that had happened in the past 24 hours.

"You had just gotten done telling me that what I had found was a filling, when all of a sudden a shot sounded, then another and another.

I shouted and Booth pushed me to the floor.

And then the gunshots stopped completely.

We all looked up to see what the gunman had been shooting at and…we all knew who the target had been when we looked up to see you falling down with blood gushing out of your leg..."

Bones stopped, hurt reflecting in her eyes, and Hodgins continued.

"The bullet hit you in the leg, dude. In your fibular artery. There was a lot of blood…"

Bren continued, "It scraped your fibular artery, which still caused blood loss, but not with such severity. If it would have pierced you Zach…you would have…died. Undoubtedly."

Booth patted Brennan's shoulder and persisted on with the story.

"The guy that shot you was gone by the time we had realized what happened. I called the F.B.I and had them seal off all the borders in D.C to catch the creep, but they never saw him. Then, Hodgins called the ambulance and we waited. Luckily Cam thought quick. She tore a wire out of the computer and wrapped it around your leg to try to stop the bleeding."

Zach turned his curious face to Cam who had been rather cold to him since his return, shortly ago.

Cam turned her face away and sighed.

"You were on the ground, in shock just like you were when the explosion occurred…only this time, you were bleeding…intensely. I naturally reacted. It was nothing personal."

Sweets grinned, "Cam has stronger feelings for you than you know, Zach."

Zach furrowed his brow as he groaned in painful agony, from the wound, and Cam bit her lip while crossing her arms over her chest.

Hodgins grabbed a hold of the sedative switch, "I think you need some pain killers, Zacko."

"No," Dr. Addy shook his head in terror, "The nightmares…they're bad enough without pain medication…please…don't…do…" but before he could finish, Hodgins pressed the button.

Now Angela turned to talk to him.

"What happened to you was incredibly horrible for me to watch, Zacharoni," she soothed.

"I'm very sorry, Angela. You've been…unimaginably kind…" the sedatives were already starting to kick in, for they were more intense than the normal stuff that he was put on at the mental ward.

"There's one thing that I'd like you to do for me, though, Zach…to make it up to me…" she said in a slightly seductive tone, "…before you have to go back to Oakland."

"What…would...that...be…Ang...Angela," he slurred, drowsily.

She smiled sadly.

"You have to sing for me, again."

--

Hey, look! It not a cliffy for once! xD

I probably could have ended it as a cliffy, but I sort of fell in love with this ending…so…yeah…cute Angela and Zach moment.

And Zach is alive!

I told you, I wouldn't kill him, didn't I? :

Rate and review my beloved readers!


	6. Chapter 6

I've finally finished the sixth chapter! I tried my hardest to make it up to you by writing an extra long chapter, but I don't really think that makes up for the 3 week wait that you so longly endured. The non-cliffy at the end of the last chapter kinda killed me for a little while. Then, my car broke down and I had to stay at my grandparents who don't have a computer. How ironic. And last weekend, the power went out three times. In two days! I'm not trying to make excuses. I suck. That was clarified in the Author's Note.

**Disclaimer**- I do not own Bones. If I owned Bones, this would happen in the show. Even in the slightest, tiniest, teeniest chance that these events happen in the show, I still won't own Bones.

**Author Says**- I'm really sorry, readers. I hope that you will forgive me for my horrible behavior. Please, enjoy!

--

Bones, who was staring out the window, sighed for the fifth time since she and Booth had left for work.

Booth turned his head in her direction and, with a sad shake of the head, pulled the car over, taking the keys out of the ignition.

The anthropologist flipped her head around immediately, "Why have we stopped?"

"Oh, you noticed, Bones? I didn't think you would because you've been off in lala land ever since we got out of the hospital, two days ago!"

"I don't know what that means."

"You know what? I'm not ever going to respond to that!" Booth groaned, "I just want to know what's up with you!"

"What do you mean what's up with me?" Temperance furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

"One minute, you're hugging Cam…_Cam _of all people…and the next you've locked yourself up again. You just sighed 50 times in the past 10 minutes!"

She shook her head, "If I had sighed that much, I would be hyperventilating right now. And why is _Cam _excluded from all people?"

"You know what I mean, Bones. Why is this so hard for you?" he inched closer to her face.

"Why is what so hard?"

"Dealing with Zach! Bones, he just said there was another apprentice. Someone just shot him, for Pete's sake! You act like I don't care about you. You know what, Bones, it was hard for you when your family left, and I get that. You built walls to protect yourself from being hurt again. You didn't want to care again. But, you don't understand, no one is going to leave you!"

"You did!" she lashed out with poison echoing through her words.

Booth backed up in his seat, looking wounded. That had struck a wrong chord.

"You left me," she whispered, "On purpose. Now Zach almost left me for real. He's a criminal, Booth, but I really still…I'm still his mentor. I still feel like I should have been watching out for him. He nearly died. I nearly watched him die," she closed her eyes and turned back around to the window, "I nearly watched you die."

Booth sighed. She was right. She was always right.

He slipped the car key in the ignition and pulled back onto the road.

--

"Are you sure you wanna go in alone?" Jack Hodgins asked his fiancé who was situated in the passenger seat, holding a manila folder in her lap.

Angela leaned over and briefly kissed the entomologist on the lips, "He's not dangerous, Jack. It's just for the day."

"I know that, Ange. I just worry about you."

"You are way too overprotective. You can pick me up right after work, and if you don't feel like arguing when we get to my apartment, maybe I'll even let you spend the night," she tilted her head to the side.

"Ange, I love you. Truly," he put one gentle hand on her knee, "I really hate myself when I yell at you. I'm just really stressed right now."

"We're all really stressed, Jack," and with that she stepped out of the car and made towards the hospital as Hodgins drove away.

When reaching the information desk she asked the receptionist for Dr. Zach Addy, and a nurse led her to his room.

"Right in here," the nurse nodded at the door, "We moved Mr. Addy into another room. I'm glad you asked the receptionist, or else you probably would have walked in on Mr. Ottowit. Old man, nasty temper. He came in last night," she chuckled until she realized that Angela Montenegro had not even cracked a smile, "You have two hours to visit. Take your time."

She left Miss Montenegro facing the door of her beloved colleague. She took a deep breath and opened the door.

Zach sat up in bed and leaned to his right to get a better view of who was walking through the short hallway into his "suite." Seeing that it was Angela he let out a nervous "uh" and cleared his throat, "Hi Angela."

She smiled, "Hey Zacharoni."

She could see him shudder at the nickname. Those were the good times…before all this mayhem.

"You came back. Is there news about the phalanges or the…a...apprentice?"

Angela frowned, "No. That's not why I came to see you."

"Then why…?"

"I miss you Zach, when I'm at the lab. All of us miss you. That's why I made you this," she handed him her manila folder and went on, "I've been trying to get Cam to come visit you with me, too."

Zach took the folder, set it on the bed, and shook his head, "I hurt her most. I don't deserve any kindness from her."

Seeing Angela's confused expression, he continued, "She was the last one I was with when I was still…me. When none of you knew, she was here, reading to me," he sighed, "I was enjoying her presence. I've always been rather close to Cam."

Angela nodded slightly and let him go on.

"During the daily work hours, Hodgins and I were always together. After work…well…you and Hodgins were inseparable. Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan, well, those two being separated for more than 3 hours would be rather unlikely."

Angela smiled at his last remark.

"Often I would find myself alone at the lab, studying some results. I was alone…except for Cam. She would almost always stay until I wrapped up whatever I was working on. Occasionally we would converse. I got to hear a lot about her sister and her other relationships, whether family related, or well, sensually, I assumed. It was really the first time anyone had confided in me. I didn't give her any grand advice or tell her what to do, but I did listen. I suppose that counts for something."

Angela didn't know what to say, so she quickly changed the subject.

"You were going to sing for me," she reminded him.

Zach grimaced, but took a deep breath.

"_Love is a many splendored thing,_

_  
It's the April rose that only grows in the early spring,_

_  
Love is nature's way of giving a reason to be living,_

_  
The golden crown that makes a man a king."  
_

Angela closed her eyes and let his smooth voice rush around her.

"_Lost on a high and windy hill,_

_  
In the morning mist two lovers kissed and the world stood still,_

_  
When our fingers touch my silent heart has taught us how to sing,_

_  
Yes, true love is a many splendored thing!"_

Zach coughed and looked down at his sheets as Angela's pinkie went up to brush the small tears cascading from her deep brown eyes.

Before Angela could thank him, a man in a surgeon's outfit opened the door and leaned his head out the hallway. Angela spun around and the man ushered her over with his pointer finger. She joined him in the small hallway.

"Hello," the middle aged man whispered through his surgical mask, "My name is Dr. Jonah Whitt," he stuck out his hand, which Angela accepted with slight hesitation.

"What's with the mask? Last time I was here, the nurse said Zach didn't need an operation."

The surgeon paused, "Oh…this? I was just with one of my patients, ma'am. He has a deadly illness that the doctors and I cannot yet identify. It's very contagious, even by respiration. I wouldn't take a chance giving anything to Dr. Addy or any of the patients…especially not at his critical condition. Or so I've been told," he handed Angela a clip board with Zach Addy's records on it, "To tell you the truth, this is the first I've heard about Dr. Addy. The hospital is low on doctors today. They just handed me this clipboard and sent me here. I didn't even know his name, to be honest, until 5 minutes ago while I studied his sheets. Here, take a copy."

Angela squinted at him skeptically while receiving the documents.

"Don't think I don't know what I'm doing. It's a routine inspection. I do these sorts of things all the time."

She shook her head and sighed, "Okay…"

"You need to leave now, ma'am."

"But the nurse said…!" she started.

He ground his teeth, "I'm not playing around!"

Angela spun on her heel, "I'll see ya later, Zach!"

She stormed out leaving Zach peering out to see behind the corner.

The artist sat down on a bench outside the room and she took out her phone. After a quick check in with Hodgins, she stretched her hand to the side to reach for her purse…but it wasn't there.

She rolled her eyes, mumbled a few curses, and then knocked on the door.

"Excuse me! Surgeon guy, open up! I left my purse in the room."

Miss Montenegro strained her ears to perceive a muffled grunt and some clattering equipment. Finally the man spoke.

"You can come a get your handbag after I examine Dr. Addy," that was all he said.

Styling a perplexed expression, the woman took Zach's sheets and her cell phone and went to the lobby of the hospital.

"Ahem," she leaned over the reception desk to catch the attention of a young nurse with florescent green glasses who was listening to a headset.

The nurse looked up, "Ma'am, I'm kinda on my break."

Angela put on her most fearsome face and pointed at the lady before her, "Look here, I don't care what you're on; I need to know if a Dr. Jonah Whitt is registered here."

The nurse peered over her frames and sneered, "I see what I can do, _ma'am_."

Angela tapped her foot impatiently to the clicking and clacking of the woman on the keyboard.

"Nope," she shook her head, "There's no Dr. Jonah Whitt registered."

"Are you sure?"

The nurse glared, "Absolutely."

"You checked all the spellings?"

"Yes."

"Are there _any_ Dr. Whitts at this hospital?"

"I'll check. One moment, please."

The artist began to pace. _"Maybe he goes by his middle name. Or maybe the nurse is just a ditz...there was something fishy about him, though..." _

She looked at the sheets that the so-called surgeon had given her and scanned them. These were real hospital documents, but a mistake was made in the first line.

"_Mr. Zachary Uriah Addy..." _it began.

The colleague of "Mr. Zachary Uriah Addy" rolled her eyes. Even the stupid surgeon knew it was Dr. Zachary…

"_Wait..." _she thought in realization, "_If he just got handed the documents…wouldn't he make the same mistake as the hospital? Unless..."_

She shot off running back to Zach's room, "Thanks for the assistance!"

"Anytime," the nurse sighed before mumbling, "_Psycho_…"

--

Agent Booth took the last bite of his cherry pie and patted his stomach.

"Are you going to finish that?"

Bones was pulled back to reality with his question, "Hmm?"

"I said, are you gonna finish your pie?" he answered a little louder than last time.

The female pushed her lonesome piece of blueberry pie to the FBI agent, "You know I don't like cooked fruit."

Booth accepted the pie and dug his fork into it eagerly, but he paused as the utensil hovered right before his opened mouth, "That's because you've never tried _this_ cooked fruit."

Dr. Brennan shook her head defiantly, "All cooked fruit is the same. Besides, I don't understand why we are here. I could be observing the crime scene inside the Jeffersonian, but instead, you pull me out of work to waste time at the Royal Diner."

Seeley shrugged, "Is it a crime to take you out to lunch?"

"If it is preventing me from work…" she started to nod, "…then yes, it is."

The man rolled his eyes and was about to retort, but he was halted by the buzzing of a cell phone. He reached into his pocket.

"It's mine," Bones flipped the phone open, "It's a text…from Angela."

"Ah yes," Booth said, "Angela. Zach hasn't bored her to tears or tried to eat her yet, has he?"

Bren glowered at him, "That's not funny and, no. He's in trouble. Let's go," she picked up her lab coat and strode towards the entrance.

"But…" Seeley stopped, "Pie…"

He walked over to the waitress, "Can I get this to go?"

"Now!" the agitated anthropologist commanded.

A reluctant Booth handed the uneaten piece of pie to the waitress and trotted out the door. The waitress walked over to his table and let out a gasp. She ran out the exit only to watch a FBI issued vehicle drive off into the distance.

"You forgot to pay!" she hollered before re-entering the diner, "_Psychos…_"

--

Angela Montenegro was banging loudly on the door when the partners showed up at the hospital.

"Let me in!"

"Angela?" Brennan asked uncertainly.

"Guys!" the artist ran up and through her arms around Booth's neck, "I'm so glad you're here!"

The agent examined her tear stained face before she spoke again.

"You need to break the door down."

The man squinted, "_Why_?"

"Zach's in trouble. The man who checked on him isn't listed on the computer database and now I can't get in Zach's room," she answered exasperatedly.

"That doesn't mean anything," he frowned, "This hospital has made plenty of mistakes before. Like with the kid's title."

"That's another thing!" she exclaimed, "The surgeon said that he'd never heard of _the kid_ and that the hospital just handed him the documents, but look!" she gave Booth her copy of the male anthropologist's papers, "The paper says '_Mr_. Zachary Uriah Addy,' yet the so-called doctor referred to him as _Dr._ Addy."

"Well maybe…" Seeley wavered.

"Just break down the door!"

"Alright, alright!" he gave up, "But I have to give this guy a fair warning."

He pounded his fist on the door, "Listen, buddy! This is the FBI! Open up!"

The door remained shut and Booth turned around to see the told-ya-so grimace on the artist's face.

"Don't say I didn't warn you!" he yelled into the wood before kicking it down to the ground.

"Nicely executed," Bones remarked at his precision.

Booth smirked at her as all three slowly crept through the short hallway.

"Stay back," the agent warned prior to jumping out into the hospital suite.

"Oh my..."

"What? What is it?" Dr. Brennan took Angela's hand and leaned out into the room as well.

Angela let out a muffled wail into the forensic anthropologist's shoulder and Bren's eyes widened in horror.

No one was there. The bed was empty. The only thing remaining from the young man that had once been there was the blood that streaked the sheets.

Booth's eyebrows lowered at the scene before him. He only grumbled a single word.

"Apprentice."

--

Alrighty then…I promise never to promise when any chapters will be out again. I told one poor soul that this chapter was supposed to be issued two Sundays ago. I was wrong to make that promise.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please review!


	7. Chapter 7

I have three words. I. hate. Norton.

As it appears, Norton does not deem appropriate for _New Age_ and _Occult_ content. Finally figured out how to modify the settings!

I am your humble servant. _Please _review. I live off of your reviews.

Also, if you have not read Chapter 6, yet, please do so. I understand that there was some confusion because, when I released the chapter, it was Chapter 7. But then, I deleted the Author's Note and it became Chapter 6, screwing up the automated emails that Fanfiction sent you.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Hodgins cradled his fiancé in his arms as she tried to stop herself from crying.

"It's my fault, Hogdie…" she sighed, "I should have realized it earlier…the mask. That should have given it away."

"Come on babe…" the man responded gingerly, "…you know it's not your fault."

Brennan halted her pacing around the lab and turned to her best friend, "None of us could have seen it coming, Angela. Well, maybe I would have seen it coming if I had inspected the crime scene more, but no. Booth _had_ to take me out for pie," she glared at the agent who was sitting down behind her.

At this remark, Seeley Booth stood up and put his left hand on his hips, "You're blaming this on me?!?" he gestured at himself wildly with the other hand.

His partner craned her neck upwards to meet him eye-to-eye, "I could be."

Booth was about to explode in fury when Angela spoke up.

"Sweetie…" she looked at her female friend, "…Booth did the right thing. You needed to get out. I'm the one who should be taking the blame."

"Angela, I didn't inspect the crime scene thoroughly!" the forensic anthropologist pointed to the yellow tape that was still roping off the other half of the lab, "There might have been some evidence that Booth could have used to arrest Zach's shooter!"

"Before he got to Zach, again?" Booth asked in a grumble.

"Well…" Temperance began.

"Booth is right," Angela nodded towards her friend's partner, "The guy would have been gone to the hospital, before you got anywhere near him. That's if you even found evidence."

"See?" the FBI agent exclaimed throwing his hands up in the air, "Angela is taking my side!"

"Now wait a minute," the artist pushed Jack's arms aside, "I didn't say anything about-"

"Your side?" Bones snorted while cutting Angela off, "She's trying to protect you, not taking your side. What you did was inexcusable."

"Inexcusable? Bones, I-"

"Sweetie, I'm not protecting him," Angela frowned, "I think that he's right. You shouldn't-"

"Yes, Booth. Inexcusable," Bren continued, "I didn't tell you to take me to the diner. In fact, I told you _not_ to take me out to lunch. Your alpha-male tendencies are simply infuriating! Can't you see that I can take care of myself?"

Booth pointed his finger at his defiant partner in mockery, "Yeah, like that time you got captured by the gravedigger? Or how 'bout the time that you-"

Angela stood up, "Now wait a minute. Booth, that wasn't necessary to bring up. Apologize."

"I'm sorry, Angela. I don't think you're my mother. You can't tell me to-"

Now Hodgins was standing, "Hey! Don't speak to my wife like that!"

"Booth," Ange sighed, "All I'm saying is that what you said wasn't…wait…" she turned to her fiancé, "Did you say wife?"

Before Hodgins could answer, Temperance spoke, "My gosh, Booth! You are such a-!"

"I don't know what you want for me, Bones! Truly, I don't know!"

She raised her eyebrows, "It's clear what I want! I want-"

"Guys," Angela started but the two continued bickering, "Guys?"

"I know you want to spend every waking hour of the day in the lab looking at particulates and bones and samples of…whatever! But I think that sometimes you need to eat. It's something that we humans do, you know, to _live_." Booth sneered.

"I can't believe you! You have such-"

Angela shook her head in exhaustion, "Would you two just…just…guys? Guys, listen to me. How is this getting us anywhere? Can't you just say it was my fault and get over it?"

The two partners didn't hear her over their full throttle argument.

"How about we all just hold hands?" Hodgins sat back down on the couch and plugged his ears, "And then we'll sit in a circle, admit our sins, and sing. Lalalalalala!"

"ENOUGH!"

All four rambling co-workers silenced turned to the entrance of the room to see a dangerous looking Camille Saroyan gripping the doorway with her fingernails.

"That's better," their boss smooth her slightly mussed hair and slowly walked into the room, each step in rhythm with the next, "Now that you are done giving the word pointless a new meaning why don't I tell you what you should do to solve this dilemma. Dr. Brennan?"

Out of the corner of her eye the anthropologist looked embarrassedly at her superior, "Yes?"

"I'd like you to go do what you think Booth prevented you from doing. Instead of arguing, shouldn't you have been inspecting the crime scene? I'll forgive you for your mistake," Cam said coldly, "Go now and report to me immediately if you find anything."

Bones blushed a little but nodded and ducked under the yellow tape to examine the place where Zach was shot.

"Dr. Hodgins?"

"Dr. Saroyan?" Jack retorted in an equally cold tone.

"I would like you to assist Dr. Brennan. Go."

The entomologist stared at her defiantly for a few moments before hopping over the yellow tape to join his colleague.

"Booth," Cam sighed, "It would be best if you just stuck it out in Dr. Brennan's office until possible evidence is found. If I see you anywhere near her, you're gone. Back to your office."

Booth grumbled something that resembled a, "Yes ma'am," and moped over to his partner's small office.

"Angela?"

The artist closed her eyes and mentally prepared herself for a difficult task.

All Dr. Saroyan said was, "Come with me," and motioned Angela to walk with her.

A slightly puzzled Angela followed without question. The two women walked into Cam's office and sat down on the couch.

Dr. Saroyan looked down at her feet, then up at Angela, "I need to talk to you."

"Well, you already told me that much," the other woman said before realizing how curt it sounded, "I mean, what do you need to talk to me about?"

Her boss paused before answering, "It's about Zach."

"If you are going to suggest that it was your fault for what happened..." Angela placed a gentle hand on Dr. Saroyan's knee."

"But it was, Angela. If I would have come with you…I'm sure the two of us could have figured it out sooner…" Cam closed her eyes, "If I wasn't so cold and bitter maybe…maybe…"

"He said that he hurt you the most," Angela whispered.

The eyes of her superior shot open at that comment, "_What_?"

"He said that he didn't blame you for not coming because he didn't deserve your kindness. He said that you were very close. I'm sure Zach isn't blaming you right now. He really cares for you."

Cam bit her lip, "I'm not going to cry. On the day that he admitted his apprenticeship, I told myself that I would never cry for him. I tried to think of him as just a regular murder and not someone I cared for."

"Sometimes…" Angela took a deep breath, "…you need to block out feelings of love and care to stay strong in the beginning. But, now, you really need to accept that you still care about him or you'll end up building a cage around yourself. You'll do what Bren did when we all though Booth was dead. As much as I love her, I think that there could've been a much better way to handle things."

The other woman only nodded and the two sat there for what seemed an eternity of silence.

Dr. Jack Hodgins broke through the heavy silence, "Guess what we found!"

Cam's head twisted around to see the panting entomologist holding a scrap of paper in his hands.

"What? What did you find?"

The man held out a miniscule scrap of paper with some horrible excuse for handwriting on it, "We found this."

Cam grasped the shard of paper and scanned it over, "Edd? Is that it? You give me a scrap of paper with the letters E-d-d scrawled on it, but what is this supposed to show?"

Hodgins cast a nervous glance to his fiancé and then turned his attention back to Cam, "We don't…know…yet," he frowned, "But it could be the name of the murderer…or a place. A store, maybe?"

His boss let out a slow sigh, "_One…two…three…four…five…" _she counted to ten in her head before answering Jack's inquiry, "Thank you, Dr. Hodgins. Good work," she looked to the doorway and saw a certain female anthropologist leaning in, "You too, Dr. Brennan."

"Hmm?" the forensic anthropologist questioned.

"She said thanks, Dr. B," Jack Hodgins explained quickly.

"Oh," the woman in the doorway said furrowing her brow, "You're…you're welcome."

"Hey Bones!" Seeley Booth hollered, running from his partner's office to Cam's.

Cam turned her head to the man breathing heavily in her doorway, "I thought I told you to stay put," she warned him, while wondering why he had come running to her office.

"I would have _stayed put_, Camille, but I got a call from a man half an hour ago who said four words and hung up. More like whispered, actually. It's good that I heard him."

Bones walked over to her partner and stared him in the eye, "What did he say?"

"Three hours," Booth said looking at the floor, "He said '_You have, three hours.'"_

"What the heck is that supposed to mean?" Hodgins piped up with a doubtful look on his face.

"I can tell you don't see the importance of this call, Hodgins," the agent grumbled, "It could mean two things. One, Zach has four hours to live," Angela let out a sharp gasp after that theory was mentioned, "Or two, he's gonna call back in three hours."

"Well, we don't know that," Temperance Brennan crossed her arms over her chest, "How did you come to the conclusion that this man was indeed the _said apprentice_ that has taken Zach?"

Booth looked at her sideways and rolled his eyes, "I know you don't like me to jump to conclusions, Bones. But I have some pretty good evidence that it was the apprentice."

"Yes?" Dr. Saroyan asked, taking a stance next to the forensic anthropologist.

"I called the bureau and we were able to track the call."

"And?" an impatient Dr. Brennan tapped her foot, telling Booth to go on.

"It was coming from the room above Hodgin's place," he let this disturbing news settle in before continuing, "Otherwise known as Zach's house."

"Oh," Angela half whispered, "Oh god."

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Two hours and fifty three minutes later, the whole team was crowded around the phone in Temperance Brennan's office.

"Ok," Booth started, striding into the room, "I got my cell phone and Bones' cell phone hooked up to the office phone. They will temporarily receive all phone calls from the office phone. Cam," he said tossing his former girlfriend his partner's cell phone, "You can have this phone, I'll listen on my phone, and Bones will talk to the man on her office phone. We also have the tape recorder hooked up to the office phone. It will record the whole conversation. The men over there..." he pointed to three FBI agents standing outside the door talking, "…will be tracking the call. They also checked Dr. Hodgins' mansion a little while ago. There was no trace of anyone, though a few people are still dusting the place for fingerprints."

"Great," Hodgins sighed, deadpan, "Tell us something we don't know."

Booth rolled his eyes and was about to answer when he was cut off by the ringing of his partner's office phone. He checked the clock. It read 8:56.

"He's early," a narrow eyed Angela glanced at her best friend's phone.

Bones picked up the phone and spoke calmly into the receiver, "Dr. Temperance Brennan speaking."

"Hey Tempe!" and all too familiar voice greeted her, "I was just calling to check up on you. I just docked my boat on this island in the Caribbean. How are you there?"

The woman sighed, tremendously annoyed, "Sully…Booth and I are expecting Gormagon's apprentice to call any minute now."

Booth banged his head off the wall of his partner's office.

"Oh," the voice on the other end of the phone grunted, "Sorry. I'll call…umm…later," and with that he hung up the phone.

Booth cursed under his breath, "Him and his bad timing…"

Angela bit her lip and grinned a little bit, "If my friend's life wasn't in danger, I'd be in a fit of hysterics, right now."

The phone rang, yet, again. Angela glanced at the clock. 8:59, it stared her in the eye.

"Places everyone," Booth commanded and gestured for Bones to pick up the phone.

The forensic anthropologist took a deep breath, and picked up the telephone once more, "Dr. Temperance Brennan speaking."

"Dr. Brennan," the young man said her name like it was something sacred, "Hello."

"Zach," the woman breathed into the phone.

"I don't have much time to talk to you," her former student spoke, "But I have called to tell you that I am alive."

A rustling of papers was heard on his end, and Bren smiled. Zach was trying to tell her that he was reading off of a script.

"My captor has only one demand," Dr. Addy slowly continued, "And that is, you do not come looking for me."

Temperance's act was fading, she was slowly unraveling, "But, Zach…we-"

She caught sight of her partner shaking his head at her, and she composed herself, "And those are his only demands?"

"Yes," Zach answered, and it sounded like he had thrown the papers aside.

"_Away with the script?_"his former mentor pondered, "_Is he just talking to me, now?_"

"Dr. Brennan," he began again, having almost a pleading tone, "Do you despise me? Do you think I should be dead, right now?"

The woman's mouth dropped open and she shook her head back and forth as she spoke, "Never, Zach. I think you were…confused. Never would I wish you dead. I care about you. Everyone here at the lab does."

"Well," Dr. Addy struggled on, "Sometimes…in the asylum I wished myself dead," his teeth chattered, "It's so _warm_, but I feel so _cold_," he put emphasis on two of the eight words.

"Zach, none of us wish you dead," Bones said staying composed, while still letting a single tear roll down her face.

"But, I wished myself dead," Dr. Zach Addy paused before continuing, "It would appear I am going to get my wish shortly."

After that, there were a few bleeps and then one droning beep that signaled that the call was over.

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Well, what can I say? I was pleased how this ended, although, I think I gave myself shivers.

Sorry if Hodgins sounded a little OOCish during the argument. I didn't know how to put him in and add a little humor to the situation at the same time.

Also, what did you think of Sully? lol

Review?


	8. Chapter 8

Dearest Readers and Reviewers,

It seems like forever since I have last updated. I almost gave up on my story, too. Almost. I had half of this chapter written, and then things went downhill. Anyways, a new season of Bones started. I was cursing myself. Why hadn't I finished the story before the season started? Now everything would be incorrect. Then came the Perfect Pieces in the Purple Pond, in my opinion, one of the best episodes EVER. But after this episode, I stopped trying to write this chapter, thinking that it would be too factually wrong to continue. BUT there is more to this story. People STILL kept reviewing, even during this big break in my writing. Someone just subscribed to my story two days ago. Someone reviewed my story last weekend. How could I have ever though to abandon you forever? How could I have been so selfish? Yes, these are the questions that I ponder late at night. xD So here it is, dearies. The eighth chapter of "Journey." FINALLY!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bones, nor any aspect of .

**Author Says:** HAPPY HALLOWEEN! And enjoy.

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After a slightly shaken Dr. Temperance Brennan hung up the phone, she looked to her partner in despair. Her student, part of her mixed up little family…was going to die. Angela was first to speak.

"Well, play it back Booth!"

Seeley Booth, whose eyes were locked with the anthropologist reached over to press the play button on the tape recorder. Hodgins and Angela, the only two who hadn't heard the disturbing phone call yet, listened intently. After it was over Hodgins cussed and banged his fist on the armrest of the couch.

"So that's it?" he said, "He's just going to die?"

Cam silently stood up and walked over to the doorway, "I'll be in my office if anyone needs me," she called over her shoulder before retreating.

Bones shook her head, "Warm and cold. _Warm_ and _cold_," she mumbled to herself.

"What?" the FBI agent looked at his partner strangely.

"You heard him," she muttered, "Something about warm and cold. It _must_ mean something."

"Well why would he be cold?" Booth asked incredulously, "It's nearing the end of August. It must be nearly 85 degrees outside!"

"Maybe he's sick," Angela suggested, "And he has a fever."

"Could be," her fiancé said patting her knee with one hand, and rubbing his temples with the other.

"No," the forensic anthropologist shook her head, "There was something about the way he said those words. It was like…he wanted to convey a message to me without his captor knowing."

"I did hear him put down a stack of papers," Seely pondered, looking up at the ceiling and scratching the back of his neck nervously.

"Maybe the apprentice injected him with poison. That could explain why he was feeling cold. He did tell us that 'his wish would be granted soon.' The poison could be killing him" Hodgins shrugged his shoulders.

"That's a plausible theory," Dr. Brennan nodded her head in agreement, "Why don't you test the scrap of paper we found earlier for fingerprints?"

The man got up and proceeded to Dr. Saroyan's office, where he had left the possible evidence.

"Ange?" the woman asked her best friend.

"Yeah sweetie?" the artist replied, visibly shaken by the whole ordeal.

"Could you look up any fatal poisons that would give a person chills?"

"S...sure," Angela stuttered, "R...right away," she made her way slowly to the main lab room.

Booth turned to the other woman, giving her a solemn glance and opening his arms up in welcome. She gladly accepted his kind welcome, and he pulled her into a firm embrace, "We'll find him Bones," he comforted.

"I know," she sniffed, trying to hold back her threatening tears, "But I don't know if we'll do that soon enough."

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**Zack's POV**

I woke up to a small whirring noise coming from the air vents in my "prison." As I recollected the previous events that had taken place after the shooting and sat up straight, my head began to throb so much that it made it nearly impossible to think.

These past few nights sleeping on these cement floors have less than pleasant to me. Death is approaching; I know this for a fact. I am well aware that it is scientifically incorrect to make assumptions of this magnitude, but I feel certain that my life is severely threatened. And that causes me to ponder some things.

Did Dr. Brennan get my message? How are the others holding up? Does Cam still despise me?

Unfortunately, because of the pain coming from my head, descending down my body and making me feel numb; I can't concentrate for too long. My captor, the _other_ apprentice, struck me directly in the back of my head with a wooden bat, last night. I am surprised that I remember that much because it is rather evident that I fell unconscious afterwards.

While monitoring my captor's comings and goings, I have developed a plan of escape that is possibly the most ridiculous thing I have ever thought of, but the only thing that could possibly work. My limbs are weak as of now, but perhaps if I give myself another day or two, I can put my plan into action. I know this is foolish, though. I was just recently shot and my hands are less than useless.

Suddenly I heard footsteps coming from behind me and the opening and shutting of the metal door.

"Hello Dr. Addy," the apprentice sneered and picked up the bat.

He laughed.

I suppose my expression gave away my ultimate fear. I wasn't scared of much in the world. There was my irrational fear of polka dots and the fear of losing my knowledge, but other than that there was nothing.

Until Iraq.

During my time in Iraq, I had felt more helpless than ever before. I was made a mockery by the other soldiers. They teased me about everything I did and every word I said. Sure, I wasn't physically superior to other men, but I was exceptional. I could only do half the amount of push-ups as the enrolled soldiers, but that is more than I can say for a great part of the workers in the Jeffersonian.

I always believed that my mental strength was more important then my physical strength. I still do, only to less of an extent. Mental strength is virtually the only thing that I have to show for myself. And that's not a bad thing when I am surrounded by my fellow "squints," as Agent Booth would call us. And sometimes, it's not too bad when speaking to everyday citizens. I succeed to impress people with my high IQ and my knowledge of scientific equations that would puzzle any one of my old college professors. However, soldiers are a different story.

Through the physical and tactical labor that American soldiers put forth, they become harder for a person like me to understand. War changes people more than I wanted believe when I ventured to Iraq. Soon after my arrival, I succumbed to this change, whether I wanted to or not. It changed me in a different way than the others. Instead of becoming seemingly tougher and more open towards the others, becoming "brothers," I think that I drew my self away from society even more…if that was even possible.

Even when I got back, I could tell that everyone sensed the difference in my natural behavior. They saw my scars, those that could heal over time…and those that could not. They wanted to help me recuperate, but I denied them their attempts. For that month after I came home, I was in the place that kept me stable. The lab. My work gave me purpose, something that I could not find in the army. Something that the army could not find in me. So, I preoccupied my wandering thoughts and frequent nightmares by concentrating on what I felt that I needed to be doing.

Eventually, this got tiresome. How it happened, I still can't not resolve. Perhaps it was because everyone else had something better to do than to do experiments with me. Angela and Hodgins were wrapped up in their pursuit to get Angela's husband to sign the divorce papers, so she and Hodgins could elope. Booth never wanted everything to do with me. Even Dr. Brennan was loosing her desire to work 24/7. She did her job. All of them did their jobs, but minus the old enthusiasm. Then, there was Cam.

Dr. Saroyan could have cared less about work. If one was to ask her if she wanted to be at the lab when she was working on something her answer would have been, no. She confided in me one night, a week after I returned, in a way that I will never forget.

"_Zach?" Camille Saroyan said a looming question in her voice._

"_Yes Dr. Saroyan?" I muttered with a quizzical expression on my face. _

"_Can I tell you something?"_

"_Is it relevant to the case at hand?"_

_She sighed, "No. Something completely different."_

"_Oh," I pondered shock, "Yes, you can tell me something. You're my boss, you don't have to ask."_

"_This isn't a conversation between a boss and employee, Zach. This is a small chat between two close friends."_

_I furrowed my brow. She'd never referred to us as _friends _before, "Okay."_

"_Right before I came to work at the Jeffersonian, I dated a man name Kevin..." she started, quietly._

_I'd never heard this one before. I motioned for her to continue._

"_I...I've never told anyone this before, so you have to keep hushed up about it. Got it?"_

_I pursed my lips together in a line and nodded affirmatively._

"_Good. Anyways, we met at a bar. It was late at night; I'd had a few drinks. So did Kevin. He took me to my house and we...participated in some...physical stimulation."_

_I blinked a few times and continued to nod. Why was she telling _me _this?_

"_The next day," she went on, "I woke up in shock. I didn't quite remember how I'd gotten there and how the man beside me ended up in my bed. But I found myself unable to care. I adored him. We had several more dates before he…asked me to move in with him. I said no; we barely knew each other. He didn't take it so well. He threatened me repeatedly for about a month, sending me angry text messages and nasty emails. I _still_ loved him. Of all the stupid things I've done in my life, continuing my relationship with him and loving him was the stupidest one of all. Finally, _he _broke it off with _me_. Of course I was devastated. I was such an idiot."_

_She was cursing herself in her head, then, I could tell. I nodded ever so intently, still puzzled to why she was saying this. She must have noticed my puzzlement, because she explained the reason in a sharp, quick sentence._

"_He was killed yesterday."_

_My eyes looked around nervously as I cleared my throat to speak, "Oh."_

_I had never quite mastered empathy or the ability to comfort. My own emotions were so distant, that I could barely be sympathetic toward myself. I bit my lip to have a crack at it, "I'm sorry."_

_Her eyes flashed up to my anxious face and then she muttered bitterly, "You shouldn't be. He was a horrible man. He got himself killed in a gang fight. He was pawning off prescription drugs."_

_I didn't know what to say to this. He _did_ seem like a pretty awful person, though I had never master judging people, either._

"_But..." Dr. Saroyan's voice was suddenly filled with threatening tears, "I _still_ feel bad. Is it wrong for me to care for him, after all the things he did. After all the people he hurt. Isn't it wrong?"_

_I tentatively extended my arm to pat her shoulder, "I don't think so. I'm not...one for psychology, but maybe your feelings of attachment to him prevented you from seeing the faults in his logic and his actions. So...feeling bad for him now, is just an aftereffect. Dr. Brennan still loves her father, despite the fact that she is a very logical woman and he has done many wrongs...and you still care about Kevin."_

_Her mouth tilted up into a smile. Without looking up, she said, "Thank you, Zach," and went to her office to look over some case files that Booth had left off for her. _

Now, when I think of what I said to her, I think of myself. Angela, Dr. Brennan, Hodgins, and even Cam still cared about me. Maybe even Booth. The master's logic was not irrefutable, but I had still fallen for it. There were blatant faults in _my _logic and _my_ actions. I was feeling more like Kevin all the time.

"So, Dr. Addy," the man sneered, "Are you ready to help me one last time?"

I looked down at the floor, "I have…conditions…Master."

"I'll show you conditions," the former apprentice yelled in his grisly voice.

Before I could see it coming, I was on the ground. The baseball bat was held above my head. Blood dripped out of my nose and splattered on the concrete floor. I sat up quickly, fearing my life, and held the bridge of my nose. My new master just laughed and tapped the bat against his hand, as if ready to strike again.

"My friends," I whimpered, "I'd like it if they remained safe."

He grinned, "You don't have any friends in this world, Dr. Addy. It's just you and me, now."

I shuddered and he continued.

"But, if you are speaking of your former colleagues, I'm afraid I just can't guarantee their safety. They know too much."

"Master," I pleaded, "I will do anything to keep them safe."

This just made his grin grow larger, "Ok. Here's what you're gonna do. Take this box," the apprentice held up a package that undoubtedly contained some set of human remains, "And deliver it to the Jeffersonian. Hand deliver it, personally. Once you have handed it off to one of your _lady friends_ down at the lab, I want you to take this, and bite it. Hard."

The man held up in the other hand a small capsule of liquid.

"Poison?" I gasped.

"Is there a problem, Zach? It's either you or them. Whose life do you treasure more?"

There was no hesitation, "I'll do it," I let go of my dripping nose, reached out for the package, and slipped the capsule into my pocket.

"Very good," the man before me rumbled in chuckles.

Before, had I known the day of my death, I would have planned it meticulously, calculating every minute. But now, I think it is better to just rush forward, straight into death. Leave the Dr. Zachary Uriah Addy that was once worth something to be nothing more.

And it seemed right in a way. The ultimate sacrifice. Kill one to save the others. My only hope was that this untimely death would go as planned.

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So I hoped you all enjoyed this long awaited update. I love you all dearly for continuing to review and subscribe.

And HAPPY HALLOWEEN!


	9. Chapter 9

Dearest Readers,

I am thoroughly regretful and…embarrassed by my neglect to update this fanfic. No excuse that I give will make up for my failure to do so. I have decided to continue on with "Journey" because of the guilt I've felt, reading so many of your reviews. I'd like to say a special thanks to **Cassiopeia823 **kicking my butt into gear. Sorry, again, to all my subscribers and readers. I've written this extra long chapter just for you.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Bones. If I did, we'd see a heck of a lot more Zach.

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Angela studied the computer screen for a moment more, before disgustedly throwing the computer mouse in her hand into the garbage can on the side of her desk.

"Couldn't find anything?" Temperance Brennan guessed, stepping into the office of her best female companion.

"Sweetie, his symptoms could range from food poisoning to snake venom. Way too big a gap to trace any leads."

"Of course," the forensic anthropologist said, placing a hand on her temples, "I should have realized that. I'm just so…"

"Stressed?" the other woman guessed as her friend just nodded sadly, "We all are. I hate to say 'don't worry' because I know that's pretty much impossible, but try not to stress too much. It's not good for the brain, if you know what I mean. Under pressure, people tend to make mistakes," she offered a small smile to her colleague.

"I know, Ange. I know. I just feel so…responsible for this, somehow."

"Honey, if you blame anyone, it should be me," the artist stood up from her chair and made her way to the door.

"Angela…" Dr. Brennan started, before being interrupted by Agent Seeley Booth.

"Come on ladies. I'll take you both home," he motioned to them to follow him.

"Home? _Home?_ Are you kidding me, Booth?"

"See Bren. This is what I meant about getting too stressed," the artist patted the infuriated woman's arm, gently.

Temperance ignored Angela's warnings and went on, "Booth, I need to be here! I need to continue investigation. Anything! Going home is like giving up!"

"No," her partner dodged the verbal attack, "Going home is taking a break. Zach wouldn't want you to work yourself to death."

Angela whispered in Booth's ear, "I'm going to go check up on Jack," and made her escape.

That left Booth standing in front of his partner while tears started to well up in her eyes.

"No. You're wrong," she spluttered, "Zach would have stayed with me, investigating, if any of you had been taken captive. He would have never left my side."

"Hey," Booth coaxed placing an arm on her shoulder, "Bones…Temperance, if that's what you really want then I'll be by your side as you examine things as long as you want. Even if I have to sleep on the couch in your office, I'll be there for you. It won't be the same as Zach, I know that, but I'll try to help you as much as you want. I promise you that."

When she didn't answer, Booth tilted his head sideways to peer at her face that was draped with her long brown locks. Tears were now flowing freely down her porcelain cheeks. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sniffled into his shoulder. Booth smiled, but after looking at the clock, his smile faded. 10:45. This was going to be a long night.

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Angela was behind Hodgins, trying to surprise him by sneaking up behind him and giving him a kiss.

"Angela. I know you're behind me."

"God Jack!" the woman put a hand to her heart, "You scared me there."

"You think I wouldn't know if my own fiancée snuck up on me?" he turned around in his chair to look at her, making her smile gently, "Are you ready to go home?"

"Home?" she raised an eyebrow.

"To your apartment. Or mine, if you'd like. Ladies choice," he smirked at her.

She snickered, "Actually, Booth already offered me a ride, but I declined."

"Oh really?" he questioned, "And why is that?"

"Well…" she started, "I kinda wanted to stay here with Brennan. She's real torn up about the kidnapping. She refuses to go home. And you know, if Bren wants to stay, then it's a given that Booth will be staying here with her."

Hodgins smiled, "Yeah. Those two really have it bad," he then proceeded to stand up and walk to the doorway.

"Wait," the female turned to him with confusion on her rather attractive face, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to tell Cam that she doesn't have to lock up when she goes home. It looks like we have a long and dull night ahead of us."

Angela's face turned up into a wide grin, "No wonder I decided to marry you."

"Well, I couldn't just leave you here," he explained, "Or well, I guess I could have, but that wouldn't have been very gentlemanly of me," his face brightened, masking some of the obvious stress and pain that he had been through in the past few months, "Shall we?" his hand extended towards hers.

She gratefully took his hand and the two lovers silently walked to their boss's office.

Ten minutes later, the couple found themselves cowering by their superior's desk, while she looked at them in utter disgust.

"You _what_?"

"We wanted to tell you that there would be no need for you to lock up the lab tonight because Angela, Dr. B, Booth, and I were going to be staying a little late," Jack repeated, slightly annoyed, but a little fearful.

"Why?" Cam asked skeptically.

"Because Bren is unhealthily obsessed with her investigation of the crime scene, and we wanted to stay to help," the other woman said, fidgeting nervously, "And for moral support," she added.

"No, no," Dr. Saroyan closed her eyes and sighed, "Why did you assume that I was going to leave, tonight?"

Both were taken aback by this question.

"Really, you think that I don't care as much about Zach as the rest of you? I might have been in denial before," she eyed Angela, "But now I know that I can't be so closed off. I can't stay away from the crime scene any more than Dr. Brennan. You could call it obsession or you could call it determination. But whatever you call it, I am most certainly NOT leaving."

The artist beamed warmly at the other woman, "Okay," she said, "Let's go help Brennan, then."

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"Booth? Booth, wake up," a voice whispered through the fog crowding the FBI agent's mind.

Booth's eyes slowly sought their way through the mist, and he saw the face of his curious partner staring intently at him. Her face was only a few inches away from his, and he jumped back in surprise.

"Geez, Bones! You scared me," he stifled a yawn.

"I just woke you up, don't have a myocardial infarction," the woman rolled her eyes.

"Don't have a what now?"

"A heart attack, Booth. A myocardial infarctio-"

"Never mind, never mind," Seeley exasperatedly ran a hand through his hair, "What time is it anyways?"

"9:30," his partner replied, briskly.

"9…9:30? As in _9:30 a.m._? I've been here all night?!?"

"Well…actually all night and all morning. You've been asleep since 1:30 a.m. But look on the brilliant side. You don't have to get up and drive to work, since you're already here."

It was Booth's turn to roll his eyes, "It's _bright side_, Bones. And anyways, is everyone else here?"

"We're all here," Angela's voice sounded from the doorway, "Hodgins, Cam, and I."

Booth turned to Angela, "So did we find anything?"

Angela rubbed her eyes and shrugged, "As far as I can see…no. But I haven't really been amazingly helpful these past few hours. I could really use some coffee. I'll have to go down to the cafeteria and make myself a cup."

"You can use this one," Brennan gestured to the coffee machine sitting on her desk, hooked up the outlet on the wall.

The artist's eyes widened, "You got a coffee machine in your office?"

"Actually," Temperance smirked, "I kind of stole it from the cafeteria. I don't think they'll mind. And it was just for last night. I've already had four cups."

"Four cups of coffee, Bones?" Booth's eyes boggled, "That can't be healthy."

"I beg to differ. It's much better for you than those energy drinks you've tried to get me to buy in the past."

"It's just ginseng and guarana. That's natural, right?" the special agent questioned his partner.

"While those _are_ natural stimulants, energy drinks increase your heart rate and are loaded with sugar. Plus, caffeine levels in most energy drinks are higher than the FDA limit," the anthropologist retorted.

"Where do you get this stuff?" Seeley asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"The Boston Globe published an article about energy drinks that I found most interesting," she stated, simply.

"Leave it to you to remember everything you've ever read," Booth rolled his eyes and yawned again.

Angela bit back a giggle. It was amusing watching their every day banter. Even about such insignificant things like energy drinks. It gave her a small joy in this time full of angst and worry. "_Oh Zach_," she thought biting her lip, "_Where the hell are you_?"

Just then Hodgins came around the corner. He stopped at the entrance to Dr. Brennan's office and planted a small kiss on his fiancé's temple.

"We've got something," Hodgins announced looking at the bickering partners.

Dr. Brennan turned from the argument, "What? What did you find?"

"Well…" Hodgins began, "I tested the scrap of paper that I found for finger prints, and got nothing. So then, Cam suggested we run some chemical tests on it."

"Chemical tests?" Booth squinted, questioningly, "On a scrap of paper?"

"We were running out of leads. It was the only thing that she or I could think of. You should see her over there. She's working like a madwoman. She's really concerned about Zach. Those two must have been closer than I thought."

"Dr. Hodgins," Temperance interrupted, impatiently, "You said that you found something?"

"Oh right," Hodgins embarrassedly glanced sideways, "Sorry Dr. B. Anyways, we ran the tests. I found traces of ethoxylated nonylphenol surfactant, ammonia, and methyl acetate on the paper."

Booth grunted, "And _that_ means?

Hodgins cleared his throat, "Those chemicals are used in a lot of different items, but together they have one thing in common," he looked at his eager audience and continued, "Combined, they're used in stainless steel cleaners."

"Stainless steel cleaners?" Angela raised her eyebrow.

"But the paper wasn't just splattered with stainless steel cleaner or touched by someone who had the cleaner on their hands. It was _soaked_ in the stuff. Absolutely drenched. It even smells like ammonia. And have you ever been to the store to buy stainless steel cleaner?"

"Can't say I have," Booth scoffed in annoyance.

Hodgins sent a pointed glare towards the FBI agent, "I have a stainless steel grill on my patio. First of all, the bottle of cleaner that I bought for it was only about three inches tall. Secondly, you're only supposed to use a tiny dab of the cleaner on a wash cloth to polish the stainless steel."

"So what you're saying…" Brennan spoke, deep in thought, "Is that the second apprentice would need to have a sufficient amount of this cleaner to soak that little scrap of paper?"

"Exactly," Hodgins said, "And I noticed something else."

"Wait, hold on a minute. What if the cleaner just fell and spilled all over the paper?" Booth asked, suspiciously.

"I thought of that," Hodgins smiled sheepishly, "It's a possibility, I won't deny that fact."

"But you said you noticed something else," Angela prompted.

"Yeah," Hodgins nodded, "It's not just any old paper. It's the kind of paper that you might print business cards out on or informational cards."

Temperance frowned, "Business cards and stainless steel cleaners. It's not very much, but it's more than we had. It's something start on. Nice work, Hodgins," she commended.

"Don't thank me, Dr. B," Hodgins gave her a half smile, "Thank Cam. She did most of the work. I just helped."

"Speaking of Cam," Booth broke in, "Where is she."

Dr. Hodgins let out a short chuckle, "Probably still on the platform."

Angela sighed, "She's looks like a mess. I slept for a few hours and so did Jack. But she stayed up working the whole time."

"I stayed up the whole night," Bones pointed out to all of them.

"Yeah," Booth replied, "But you don't run like a normal human should. You have some kind of everlasting batteries that don't need recharged."

His partner grinned and swatted him on the arm, "That's ridiculous, Booth. Everyone needs to sleep."

Angela and her soon-to-be husband shared a knowing glance. While their bickering was amusing, sometimes Jack wished that they'd just sleep together and get it over with.

Angela coughed loudly and brought everyone back to attention, "Should we head up and check on Cam?"

Seeley nodded and all of them proceeded down the hallway to the platform. They were met by the sight of a sleep deprived Camille Saroyan, leaning against the examination table and struggling to keep her eyes open.

"Cam," Booth called to her and freed her from her trance-like state.

"Hmm?" Cam blinked and straightened up immediately, "Oh hello, Seeley. Discover anything on your end?"

"Not really," he answered and swiped his card as he mounted the stairs to reach her, "You look awful."

Cam glared at him, "That's just what every woman wants to hear early in the morning."

The FBI agent rolled his eyes, "You know what I meant Camille. You need to get some rest."

"I'll get some rest. I'll go to sleep, when I get home."

"And when'll that be?" her long term friend remarked, staring into her drowsy eyes, "Later tonight, early morning tomorrow? I don't think so. We'll all be heading home soon."

"No," his defiant partner's voice came from behind him, "I'm not leaving."

Seeley Booth ran a hand down his faces and let out a groan, "Come on, Bones. I'll give you an hour, but then I'm taking you home. Everyone'll come back for a fresh start tomorrow."

Angela bobbed her head in agreement, "It'll be easier to get some work done, when you're well rested," she placed her hand on Temperance's shoulder, "It's the best for you and for this investigation."

Brennan looked up at her companions in defeat, "Fine. One hour. But we're not leaving any sooner."

Just then, a certain young psychologist came striding through the doors of the Jeffersonian. He jogged his way to the platform and scanned his own card to be permitted in. "Were you guys here all night?" he questioned in astonishment, seeing their worn out faces.

All five heads went up and down in unison. Sweets scratched his head, "Did you make any progress with finding the bad guy?"

Booth frowned at the young man's choice of words, "If you're asking if we discovered who the _bad guy_ was, then the answer is no. But we found traces stainless steel cleaner on the scrap of paper found at the crime scene."

Hodgins rolled his eyes, "Cam, Angela, and I found the traces. You just fell asleep on Dr. B's sofa."

Booth folded his arms across his chest and grumbled. Sweets let out a small laugh before becoming silent, when the intimidating FBI agent glowered at him.

"Let's get to work, then," Dr. Brennan commanded to her colleagues and they continued to look for the one thing they feared might not even be there.

-----------------------------------------

A silver convertible approached the Jeffersonian parking lot and came to a halt. The young man resting in the back seat felt a fist strike him in the shoulder. He opened his weary eyes and saw his captor holding a box in his hands.

"This is your stop, twit. Get out of the car."

Dr. Addy peered up at the face of his master and nodded, "Will you return the car?"

"What?"

"Will you return this car to its rightful owner?"

"Of course not, stupid. I'll get rid of it and destroy the evidence. But you already knew that."

Zach nodded his head. He did know; he was just hoping the apprentice would forget.

The man grabbed him by his shirt collar, "Listen here, you sad excuse for a human being. If anything goes wrong…if you screw anything up, your friends will pay the price for your mistake."

Again, Zach nodded in obedience, "Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, master."

"Very good," the apprentice said gruffly, "Now get out there!"

The young forensic anthropologist hurried out of the car, with the box of remains in one gloved hand and the lethal capsule in the other. Each step he took brought him closer and closer to his doom. But he was glad for it. He was glad that, while he would be gone, his only friends would live on. And lead better lives than he would have ever lead his.

He tapped on the door to his home, gently. And then, he waited. He waited for the end of his life to begin.

-----------------------------------------

"Did you hear anything?"

Hodgins turned to face his fiancée, "What?"

"I…never mind," Angela's eyes swept over his concerned expression and flew down to the ground, "I thought I heard something. I think the sleep deprivation is finally getting to me."

"Actually, Angela, I doubt that you'd be suffering from hallucinations. You've only been up for a mere 24 to 26 hours, I'm guessing," Sweets commented, walking by.

Angela shook her head and ignored his remark. She looked up at Hodgins and mumbled under her breath, "I haven't gotten much sleep, lately."

Though the words were garbled, Hodgins understood. He brushed his thumb over her smooth cheek. "Neither have I," he admitted, sheepishly, "Not even with your company. As much as it comforts me to have you with me, at night…"

"It's not enough," the woman finished for him, "I know. I can't imagine how it would be, without you constantly at my side. I guess, sometimes, it's the tragedies that pull those who struggle…closer."

"Rather bittersweet, isn't it?" Hodgins smirked, "It's incredible what people take for granted."

Angela nodded in agreement, "It is."

Meanwhile, Angela was not the only who seemed to hear this mysterious tapping noise. Cam focused on the faint knocking noise, trying to place where it was sounding from.

"You got something?" Booth asked her, quietly.

"Hmm?" Cam blinked several times, trying to make sense of his words, "Got something? No. I just thought I heard something knocking."

Booth's face became curious, "Knocking?"

"You don't think someone could be at the door…"

"During a squint squad investigation power hour?" Booth snickered at his own joke, "Not a chance. No one would dare interrupt Bones' concentration. Not if they wanted to live anyways."

Dr. Saroyan smiled, sadly, "I'm worried, Seeley. I'm worried that…I'll never be able to tell Zach…how sorry I am. Sorry for pretending that I didn't care about him," she bit her lip, trying to hold back her tears that threatened to pour over.

"Hey, hey," Booth wrapped one arm around her, "We'll find him, Camille," he tried to convince her and himself.

"Does anyone else seem to hear…?" Brennan paused a moment, "…some sort of tapping noise?"

"Alright," the FBI agent grunted, pulling his arm away from Cam, "I guess it's time to go investigate."

Everyone started to make their way toward the Jeffersonian entrance. Sweets hesitated behind. "Are you sure, guys?" he wavered, "It could be some sort of trap."

"Well," Booth called over his shoulder, "You don't have to come, if you don't want to."

Sweets sighed, resentfully and followed them.

Booth was first out the door, "Hello?" When no one answered, he put one hand on his gun and took out his badge. "FBI! Show yourself!"

A slouching figure emerged from behind a parked car.

"Zach," Angela cried, breathlessly. She moved towards him.

"Stay back," Zach warned, and then winced at his own tone. Angela took a step back, and Booth motioned her over. "Go call the police," he commanded, silently. Angela obeyed, running into the lab. She was followed by the antsy entomologist.

"I've come," began Dr. Addy, "To deliver something…for you, Dr. Brennan."

Bones stepped forward, but Booth kept a tight grasp on her arm. "I'm afraid Bones can't accept that package you've got, Zach."

"Booth," Temperance glared at him, "I can take care of myself." She walked over to her former intern. "Hand the package to me, Zach," she held out her hand, with wide eyes.

The boy gave her the cardboard box containing the present from his master. Clutching the tiny capsule in his bandaged hand, he raised it to his open lips.

Booth reacted quickly and slammed Zach's head to the pavement, before the young man could tell what hit him. The pill clattered to the ground.

"Agent Booth!" Sweets cautioned, in shock, "You can't hurt him. He hasn't done anything wrong. The other apprentice was just using him to deliver a message."

"It's not that," Booth climbed off Zach, who was grasping his head in pain, "Look at this," he held up the capsule as evidence, while keeping the younger anthropologist pinned to the ground, with one hand.

Brennan stepped forward and stared at the poison resting in her partner's hand, "_Zach_."

"I didn't…" Dr. Addy tried to speak clearly, but his voice was mangled with hysteria, "I couldn't! I had to! You don't know what you've done!" his words were panicked, uncharacteristically, "I was trying to save you!"

"_Save us_?" Camille asked, her voice rising an octave.

Everyone turned to see Hodgins fling open the door. "Guys," he shook his head, disbelievingly, fear evident in his tone, "I can't find her."

Booth's brow furrowed, "What do you mean? Can't find who?"

"Angela," Jack spoke in a low voice, "She's gone."

-----------------------------------------

I hope the energy drink argument wasn't too much a tangent. I had actually been researching different energy stimulants and their effects in my Health class, when I had written that portion of the chapter.

I hope you enjoyed Chapter 9 of "Journey."

Please review! Concrit is welcomed.


	10. Chapter 10

Hello Readers! Did everyone check out last night's Bones episode? I was rather pleased with it. Though, I am not so pleased with the spoilers that I've recently been reading.

On a happier note, I've started a new fanfic. The History of Zach Addy is a series of drabbles focused on…none other than Dr. Zachary Uriah Addy. Only one chapter is up so far, but there will be more to come. It's just a side project, so don't worry, I'll still be updating 'Journey.'

Finally, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Fynhavir Leveque, who has been reviewing this story since the beginning. I apologize for not replying to your review, Fynhavir. I hope this makes up for it.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bones.

Enjoy!

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_Everyone turned to see Hodgins fling open the door. "Guys," he shook his head, disbelievingly, fear evident in his tone, "I can't find her."_

_Booth's brow furrowed, "What do you mean? Can't find who?"_

"_Angela," Jack spoke in a low voice, "She's gone_

-------

"_Gone_?" Brennan questioned in alarm.

Zach's body began to shake, his body convulsing under the FBI agent's hand. He felt his stomach twist and found it hard to concentrate on breathing. Booth stared at Zach for a moment, before lifting his hand from him.

"What's wrong with him?" Cam gasped, her question directed at Brennan.

"It would appear he's going into shock…much like when the explosion went off," her face creased at this horrible memory, as she watched her old student jerk uncontrollably.

Hodgins, while concerned for his best friend, wouldn't have any of this, "I found this on her office floor," he raised his tone and drew everyone's attention back to himself, "It's Angela's cell phone. 991 was dialed in, but the 'send' button was never pressed. Papers were strewn all over the floor," Jack sniffled, helplessly, "I thought…I left her alone, and I went to get her bag because she asked for it. I'm such an _idiot_."

Zach snapped out of his trance-like state and struggled to stand up, his head spinning. Once again, Seeley's hands were gripping his shoulders.

"Let go of me!" Zach yelled, staggering as he tried to pull away. The same horror as before filled his voice, "Let go of me! He'll _kill_ her! _He'll kill her_!"

Sweets watched the frightening display. He couldn't tell if Booth did it because he knew Zach was telling the truth or if the former sniper was just as scared as he was, but Booth released the young man's shoulders.

As soon as Zach was free, he dragged his feet across the parking lot, stumbling as quickly as he could. He set his course for the place where his master had let him out of the stolen car. _Please, let him still be there_, Zach pleaded with fate.

Unfortunately, the car was no longer in the same spot. Zach crumbled along the side of the road in anguish. His suicide mission had failed, and now Angela was paying the ultimate price. Just as he was about lie down and sob like the coward felt like, something struck him in the side. The pain didn't come, at first. He heard a feminine whimper, far away, and the sound of a slamming car door. Then, the terrible ache settled in, and the world turned dark once more.

-------------

Three of the five remaining members of the crime solving team stood in silence.

"Do you think…it's time to involve the FBI?" Sweets asked the partners, hesitantly

"No!" they responded in unison, before turning to look at each other.

"I thought you'd…say yes," Brennan furrowed her brow, incredulously, at the agent.

"I knew you'd say no," Booth pointed out, as if it were obvious. The woman shrugged her shoulders and accepted his answer.

Sweets rolled his eyes. Normally, Booth's honest reply would have amused him, but this was a serious force they were dealing with. "Why not?" he questioned them, "It's obviously out of our hands."

"That's exactly what the apprentice is looking for," Booth frowned, "An excuse to kill them."

"He doesn't need an excuse to kill them," the younger man retorted.

"You're a _psychologist_, Sweets. You of all people should know what I mean."

Lance took a deep breath, "In normal circumstances, I would agree with you Agent Booth, but this situation is anything but normal. The apprentice isn't playing by the rules. He's making them up as he goes. He's not the kind of serial killer that I can see killing when he's in trouble. He kills because he takes enjoyment in it. That would explain why he was working for Gormagon in the first place."

"Shut up, Sweets," Booth growled, "If Bones doesn't think we should involve the FBI, then we sure as hell won't. I'm on her side with this one."

"Fine," the psychologist took a step back, hands up in surrender, "It was an honest question."

Seeley turned to his partner. "What's the game plan now?" he asked her, running his fingers through his short hair.

"I think we should go back," Brennan took a look at him, eyes filled with determination, "I think we should go back to the Oakland Mental Facility."

--------------

The first thing he saw was her sparkling brown eyes staring into his. His mind fought through the haze, recognizing the face peering over him. "Angela," his voice came out as a quiet pant.

"I was wondering when you'd wake up. Sweetie, I was so worried. There was so much blood."

"_Angela_?" Zach's groggy voice was tainted with confusion, "Angela? What happened?"

The artist sighed, "He hit you," her smooth fingers brushed over his blood stained forehead, "With the car."

Immediately, though she had not confirmed the man she was speaking of, he knew.

"The car wasn't going very fast. But it still did some damage. You might have a broken rib," Angela's fingers moved down from his brow and grazed his side. Zach winced. "Then, you fell and skinned your forehead on the asphalt. It doesn't really look so bad. He allowed me to wash it out. I was worried…it would get infected."

"I'm probably going to have some significant brain damage, when this whole experience is over," he spoke in a somewhat lighter tone. She chuckled, silently.

"It's a wonder that you're not in a coma," Angela mused, quietly, stroking the young anthropologist's hair, "No. Scratch that. It's a wonder that you aren't dead."

"I should be dead."

Her curls shook, "Don't say that. You've escaped death on multiple occasions, already. That must mean _something_."

"I'm tired of escaping death," he spoke softly, "I'm tired of running. I just want to keep everyone safe and end this mess. To think that I considered myself a genius. A genius wouldn't have considered the words of a cannibal as logic."

"Hey, hey, hey," Angela scolded, "Enough of that. We're both going to get out of this! Brain cell loss and all."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that."

Angela's head whipped around and Zach struggled to turn his.

"What do you want?" the woman questioned the unwelcomed man, pacing in front of them.

"You don't ask the questions!" the man barked, "Unless you have a death wish, I suggest you keep your mouth shut."

Angela nodded, quickly and gripped Zach's shirt.

"Now, here's how it's gonna work. You," he pointed his finger at Angela, "Are gonna stay out of this And then maybe, just maybe, I won't have to kill you. I knew that this dimwitted fool," he stuck his thumb out at Zach, "Wouldn't have the guts to take his own life. Stupid mistake if you ask me. I had it planned out, who I'd take as my next captive. I never thought it'd be that easy," the coldhearted man sniggered.

Zach felt his muscles tense up, "This wasn't part of the deal."

The apprentice dragged the boy up by his shirt collar. Angela stuffed her sleeve into her mouth to keep from crying out. The large man's fist collided with Zach's wounded side. He screamed in agony.

Then, the apprentice dropped him. "There's more where that came from! And the deal was that you'd end your own life. You blew it. The deal is _off_. You can be the one to blame for anything that happens from now on," he stormed off, slamming the door behind.

Zach's tears weren't from the pain in his side.

--------------

The car stopped at the entrance. He walked around the car and opened her door.

"I'm perfectly capable of opening a car door, Booth," Temperance frowned at his act of courtesy.

Booth shrugged his shoulders, "Someone's gotta keep the chivalry alive, Bones. Plus, some woman really dig the good manners," he waggled his eyebrows.

She rolled her eyes, "Let's just focus at the task at hand."

"Which is?"

The anthropologist thought for a moment, "I'd like to start by questioning his psychiatric therapist. Dr. Calder, I believe. Perhaps Zach mentioned something to her."

Booth just nodded. When the approached the door, his hand reached out before hers could. The door swung open and he held it for her, smirking as she scoffed past him.

"Hello, my name is Agent Seeley Booth,"

The elderly secretary stopped typing on the keyboard and peeked up at him, "And what can I do for you, handsome?"

Seeley fried to ignore the older woman's flirtatiousness, "I was wondering if there was a Dr. Calder present."

"For what reason?"

"I just have a few quick questions to ask her," Booth looked down at her name tag, "Is she here, at the moment…Cheryl?"

Cheryl smacked her gum, "Hold on, hon. I'll see what I can do." Readjusting a file full of documents, she dialed an extension number on the telephone. After a few moments, she was finally on the line with someone. "Uh huh. Uh huh. Yeah, okay," she hung up.

"So?" Booth pressed, leaning against her desk.

"She'll be right down here. Just finishing up with a patient."

"What floor is that?"

"Sixth, why?"

The man started toward an elevator, "I'll think we'll just meet her halfway."

"Alrighty, then. Come back and visit any time," she winked. Booth didn't look back.

In the elevator, he pressed the button for the sixth floor. The doors closed.

"So…" Brennan began, hesitantly.

"So…?"

"That woman was…really coming onto you."

His shoulders went up and down, "Yeah."

"Well, you didn't even try to allure her. She took her time, and I'm sure you could have sped things up…or gotten the information faster."

"What do you mean?"

"There wasn't anything. Not even a charm smile."

The agent hesitated, "I guess not."

Dr. Brennan took a moment to ponder the truthful statement. Suddenly, the doors opened to the sixth floor, and behind them stood a stunned Dr. Melissa Calder.

"Oh. You must be Agent Booth," she brushed a strand of chestnut brown hair behind her ear, "I thought I told Cheryl…"

"That you'd meet us down there?" Booth finished, "We decided to just meet you halfway. And yes, my name is Agent Seeley Booth. This is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan."

"Dr. Brennan," Melissa nodded to the woman on his left, "Perhaps you two would like to conduct the interview or…questioning in my office. It's down on the first floor, right above the lobby."

Temperance looked at her partner.

Seeley nodded, "Alright. That sounds fine."

They went down a few floors and exited the doors. Dr. Calder unlocked her office door and motioned the two to proceed in side. The office was small, but cozy. Dr. Brennan noted that the woman had decorated her office with various relics. She took a seat in a red chair before the desk.

"I see you have a certain fascination with artifacts," the anthropologist remarked.

"Oh yes," the therapist answered, enthusiastically, "I went on a dig in Turkey, before I got married. It was my first semester in my sophomore year of college. I had always wanted to be an archaeologist," she spoke, wistfully, "But then I had my wedding and shortly afterwards got pregnant. I couldn't exactly be adventuring all over the place with a family, so I pursued my degree in psychology."

"I'm a fan of red, too," Brennan eyed the south wall, painted red, and the chairs.

"Yes," Melissa agreed, "Red is a very strong, passionate color. It symbolizes love…and anger. Two very aggressive emotions," she paused, "But let us get to the questions. I assume you two are here to talk about Mr. Addy."

"_Dr_. Addy, actually," the other woman corrected her, "But yes. How did you know?"

"I saw you in here before, visiting him."

"You seem…distressed," the FBI agent observed.

"No, no," Dr. Calder shook her head, "He was just…one of my more difficult patients," she winced, slightly.

"How so?" Booth asked, curiously. He leaned back into the seat.

"He seemed to always be trying to dodge my questions. And he worked on my patience, continually," she folded her arms, "Let me tell you, I am a _very_ patient woman."

The agent nodded, "I'm sure you are. You'd have to be, considering your profession."

"Yes, well…he was very, very bright," Dr. Calder's voice broke off. Temperance Brennan couldn't help but feel a pang of pride for her brilliant former student, even if he was uncooperative. Of course, the female anthropologist admitted inwardly that she wasn't always so cooperative with psychologists or psychiatrists, in the past.

Melissa continued, "This was also a problem. He was very _good_ at evading the questions. I couldn't help but feel…that he was in fact mentally stable. Of course, he did believe that working with a cannibalistic serial killer was benefiting the entire society."

"Did he mention anything to you," the anthropologist took a deep breath, "About his "master" or about anyone else involved in the conspiracy?"

Zach's therapist leaned on her elbow, "Dr. Brennan. I could barely get him to tell me about his _profession_, let alone anything about his relationship with the serial killer."

They were getting nowhere fast. Booth changed their direction, "Were there any visitors that came to see Zach, while he was here?"

The woman sitting before them looked down at her cherry stained desk. She sighed and shook her head.

"No one else talked with him?"

Her eyes were sullen, "Other that Dr. Donovant and myself…" her eyes lit up, "No, wait. He would always talk with Sandy Smithers, the woman who visits Jonathan Brady. During visiting hours, Zach sits…sat in the cubicle next to Brady. Technically, visitors are only allowed to talk with the ones that they'd come to visit, but I overlooked that for Dr. Addy. The conversation between the two was…harmless. As far as I could see, that is."

"Do you happen to have an address or a phone number of…Miss Smithers?" Booth asked.

"It's probably in our records…somewhere. All persons must register before being able to visit our patients. Dr. Brennan must have been through the same thing. You might want to check back with Cheryl."

Booth openly winced at the thought of seeing the engaging receptionist again. Temperance motioned for him to stand. Dr. Calder stood up, and pushed in her chair as well.

Brennan smoothed down her messy hair, realizing that she hadn't done much with it since yesterday morning. She stuck her hand out, "Well, Melissa, thank you for your assistance. We'll keep in touch. And please, call me Temperance."

The other woman grasped her hand and smiled warmly, "It was my pleasure, Temperance. I'll try to lend a hand with your…investigation as much as I can. May I ask why you came to visit me today?"

Booth saw his partner turn a funny tinge of purple. He realized she was holding her breath. He stepped in, "We're afraid that Zach is unaccounted for at the moment. It would be best if we concealed the details, at the present time. The FBI will take care of it," he lied through his teeth.

Dr. Calder was taken aback by this information. In her shock, she did not notice the facial contortions that could have told any psychology major he wasn't fully telling the truth. "Oh," she responded, robotically before returning to a more normal, yet brisk tone, "Well, I must be heading off to see to another patient."

Calder took off without another word, leaving Booth and Brennan standing speechless.

"She was…very nice," the female partner commented.

"Yes," Seeley agreed, tiredly, "Nice, but not very helpful."

"Well, she did give us another lead."

Booth groaned, "I guess this means that we're going to go check out _Miss Smithers_, now?"

Brennan just bobbed her head up and down, and both of them exited the quiet office.

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Another chapter that is mostly…uneventful…apart from the beginning, of course. I had this chapter finished late on Monday night, but unfortunately was not able to get on the computer until now. Sorry for the two week gap. Or two and a half week long gap.

A hint for next chapter: Someone who you've already met may be move involved than they might seem.

Review away!


	11. Chapter 11

Not the most exciting chapter, but I think it's my best so far. I've decided that this fanfic still takes place in between seasons 3 and 4, to benefit continuity and such…despite the fact that season 5 has already begun.

Who loves season 5? Raise your hand!

I apologize for the ridiculous hiatus I took. I haven't given up on this fanfic yet, so please don't give up on me. This fic is un-betaed, and has been so, from the start. If anyone is interested in beta-ing and kicking my butt into gear, let me know. :)

I'd like to thank everyone for continuing to review. For anyone reading, "The History of Zachary Addy," I hope to update soon, but I can't promise anything for sure.

Enjoy!

He had a dream.

Hodgins, his comrade, his partner in crime, was speaking. He stood at the podium; flowers decorating the grass around the speaking area. Zach couldn't hear what he was saying at first, but then it became clearer.

"A good friend is something hard to come by. A best friend…even harder."

The young anthropologist scanned the crowd, now surrounding Dr. Hodgins. Agent Booth, arm wrapped around his shaking partner, Cam, and Angela, shedding a good many tears on Dr. Sweets' suit. He saw Caroline Julian, gripping Cam's shoulder, and Dr. Goodman. Even Dr. Wyatt was there, though he appeared more interested in the two partners than what Hodgins was saying.

"Whether we were solving cases or arguing over who would be that week's King of the Lab…" Jack's voice faltered, "…he was my right hand man. No matter how many grad students continue to file through, none will take his place."

Fair statement, Zach decided. He considered himself a genius and one of the brightest in his field. Anyways, unless it was possible to make some type of clone of himself, none could really take his place being that they would not be exactly the same as he.

"When he went…when he went away to Oakland, I felt like a hole had been torn inside me. A hole that could only be filled by my best friend."

A hole? Of course that couldn't be true. Zach couldn't remember doing any physical damage to Hodgins. Ever. Well, there was that time that he punched him in the face. But that was entirely justifiable. Plus, Zach didn't really consider himself to be physically strong…

"Metaphorically speaking, of course," Hodgins smiled, "If Zach were here right now, I doubt he would have understood my previous statement. But that's one of things that I learned to love about the guy."

Ah. That made much more sense. He made a note to thank Hodgins for understanding.

"And I really, really wish he were still here," Hodgins stepped away from the podium and Angela stepped forward, sniffling.

"From the first day I met Zach, I made note to try and help him out a little. It took a lot of energy to not write him off as '_hopeless case.'_ But I persevered," Angela teased, weakly. A deep chuckle came from Agent Booth.

Another fair statement, Zach decided, though he was slightly offended. Hopeless?

"I gave him countless romantic advice. But if I'd feel sorry for anyone in that position, I'd feel bad for Booth," the artist smirked, "He took the brunt of the awkward and most of the times sexual questions from our quirky, little boy."

Zach frowned. He never _meant_ the questions to be awkward. Who could blame him for seeking greater knowledge about sensual relations?

"I know I tease. That's my way of coping, I suppose. To cut to the chase," Angela wiped he eyes on her sweater sleeve, "We all miss Zach. People might tell us to get over it, or just forget. We might even tell ourselves these lies. But you know what? A little grieving can be good for you, sometimes. Zach will _always_ be in my thoughts, no matter how any shrink advises me," she glanced playfully at Sweets before stepping away. Cam leaped forward.

"I was skeptical of Zach, at first," Cam spoke quickly, out of nervousness, "I turned him down, when he first asked for a job here. I was probably pretty well hated for my first few months working as a pathologist, at the Jeffersonian," she began to slow down, "So Angela bought him some clothes and got him to cut off his cute, scruffy shag. He asked again, and I gave him the job. He was no longer an intern at the Jeffersonian, but a well-paid forensic anthropologist, following in the footsteps of his mentor, Dr. Temperance Brennan."

He never hated Dr. Saroyan, though Zach did get slightly upset about the job issue. He wanted so bad to remain in the shelter of the Jeffersonian.

The strong woman seemed unusually vulnerable, as she spoke of Dr. Addy, "It seemed that as soon as he got the job, he left," the former cop continued, "Zach went to Iraq, to serve his country. It was a noble effort, but I can't say that I wasn't overjoyed when he walked into the lab, having been sent home for reasons he wouldn't say. I think that was the first time I called him 'Zacharoni,' at least to his face. It became my nickname for him, over time," she almost smiled. Almost, "Zach was the one who I told everything. Personal matters, family matters…nothing I would have told anyone else. Maybe not even Seeley, whom I've known more than twice times as long. He might not have been a great speaker, but he was the _best_ listener. I'll miss that," she turned away.

Zach shook his head. The mourning, the grievances…he didn't mean for his betrayal to cause his friends such anguish.

Both Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth stepped up to the platform, seemingly joined at the hip. Booth started, "Like Angela said, Zach bugged me time and time again about my previous relationship experiences. I get it. He looked up to me, but Jesus, Zach," he scoffed, before turning more serious, "He was a dedicated worker and a great kid. I may have been too hard on him, when I tried to get the information about Gormagon. I was just doing my job. Really, I was just as shocked as anyone else. And watching his friends…and his mentor," he glanced at his partner, "…suffer was a great pain to bear. I really miss the kid. All of his awkward questions included."

Zach watched his greatest role model clear her throat and lean forward, "I had strong emotional attachments to Zach, however illogical it may have been to feel the same way about him after what he did. I didn't care that he…killed the lobbyist or worked with a cannibalistic serial killer, as I watched him through that hospital window, speaking with Ms. Julian. I just wanted him to stay with us, no matter what he'd done. It's selfish, criminally speaking, but…" her eyes filled with tears again and she started to speak in a whimper, "…he was _my _student. I was _his _mentor. Zach was compelled to do what he did by logic. I know that…but I still feel that somehow I must have done something wrong. I taught Zach to rely on logic alone. His reliance and dependence on logic is what caused his downfall," if she had her way, not a tear would be spilled from the brilliant, crystal orbs. Seeley Booth wouldn't have it.

"It's not your fault, Bones. You can't take responsibility," whispering, as his hand slid onto her shoulder.

Unfortunately, the forensic anthropologist didn't have her way. One spilled over…then another. She put her face into the man's dress shirt and breathed in heavily, snuffing out the disobeying tears.

Zach shook his head defiantly. It was most certainly not Dr. Brennan's fault; he agreed with Booth wholeheartedly.

Suddenly, something else caught his eye, though. The platform faced a ring of daisies, circling around an ominous hole in the earth, a curious stone, a cherry wood box, an imprinted lid, a body inside.

The body was his.

"Zach!"

He wouldn't wake up. She shook his shoulders, roughly, "Zach! Wake up, Zach!"

Sweat poured off of his forehead and his body quaked with chills. Moans escaped from his pale lips. Angela needed to quiet him, before they both got in trouble. Her fingers traced his eyelids, then down to his mouth. She pressed slightly against the entrance, "Please wake up Zach. He'll hear you."

An eyebrow quivered and rose. The moans subsided. He drifted back into soundless slumber. The woman tangled his arm in hers and kissed his head.

"We'll get through this," a whisper of a promise graced the air.

"This is it?" Temperance asked and was confirmed by her partner's solemn nod. The FBI issued suburban pulled onto the bumpy, gravel driveway. He was out his door and to hers before she could unbuckle her seatbelt.

"This is highly unnecessary, Booth," the woman protested when he clicked open the passenger door.

"Hey, I just want to tell you something before we go inside," he paused, "Try to be nice, alright?"

"Nice?"

"Yeah…you know; no insulting, yelling, physical contact of any kind…"

"Booth, she's a suspect."

"I know that, Bones. But…this situation hits home for all of us…"

"I can control myself, Booth. I'm not a child. Irrational behavior would only complicate things more so. I would never endanger Zach and Angela by acting stupidly. You of all people should know that," she spat, her words stinging him like a slap in the face.

"Bones…" he pleaded, as she walked away from him and towards the house of Sandy Smithers, "Bones! I'm sorry. I didn't mean it…Bones, I'm sorry," he caught up to her and she silenced him as the door cracked open.

"Hello? Can I help you?" a bleach blonde head peaked out the once white front door, now peeling and cracked.

"Sandy Smithers?" Booth asked and the woman nodded, "Agent Seeley Booth, FBI. This is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan. We're just here to ask you a few questions. May we come in? If that's no trouble…"

"Yes…yes..." Sandy's eyes widened, "Certainly…come in. No trouble at all."

Brennan walked through the door before Booth, who had paused, scanning the woman's face. She was afraid of him, but Booth couldn't figure out if she was frightened because there was an FBI agent at her door or if she was frightened because…there was an FBI agent at her door…and she had something to hide.

The woman seated the partners and then herself in the country themed sitting room and released her hitched breath.

"Do you know what this is about?" Booth questioned and Sandy shook her head violently.

"I have no idea," she strained, then she squinted and forced a smile, which seemed to turn genuine, "But I remember you," Sandy nodded towards the forensic anthropologist, "You're Mr. Addy's girlfriend," she raised and lowered her eyebrows suggestively and Temperance frowned.

"_Actually_," Booth began, "That's why we're here. We'd like to ask you a few questions about Dr. Addy. I understand from Dr. Calder that you were a frequent visitor at the Oakland Mental Institution."

"Yes. I often visited my ex-fiancé Jonathan. Still a looker, though his mind's going. Maybe it was never really quite there in the first place…"

"Sandy," the FBI agent interrupted Miss Smither's tangent, "Jonathan and Dr. Addy had visiting cubicles located next to each other. You were seen talking to him, as you visited Mr. Brady."

"I didn't mean to break any rules," the woman avoided his glance and stared past his head, "He was just lonely, the poor soul. Never got any visitors. No…once or twice he got a visit from a bearded man, with these really blue eyes…"

"_Hodgins_," Brennan and Booth thought in unison, as their eyes connected, briefly.

"Did he ever tell you about why he was sent to the institute? Or mention anything that you found unusual?" Brennan spoke, her eyes piercing into the one she was questioning.

Sandy shook her head, "I know that he was convicted for murder, just like Jonathan, but that's about it. I didn't press him for any information. He didn't seem that crazy…but you never know….you know?"

Temperance glared at the woman in irritation, but Booth merely coughed once and stood up, "Thank you for your time. Is there any way we can contact you if…anything else comes up?"

"Yes, yes," the bleach blonde nodded, grabbing a pad of paper off the table and a pen out of a drawer, "My cell number, my home number…you probably already have that. As for my work number…I have a card somewhere around here…but you probably won't need it," she bit her lip, "Anything else I can do for you?"

"No, that'll be all, thanks," Booth's hand rested on the small of his partner's back as he guided her to the door.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I need to prepare for a date tonight," her eyebrows waggled and she laughed nervously, "He's the only man I've seen since Jonathan. I hope it works out."

Seeley smiled at her, "Good luck, then." His partner rolled her eyes, and Sandy ran up the stairs.

"Come on, Bones. Let's get back to the lab. Bones?" he paused, halfway to the car, when he realized she wasn't following him, "Bones?" he hollered, looking around, "What are you doing?"

The forensic anthropologist snatched a paper off an end table by the stairs and exited the house, walking towards him.

"What are you doing? You can't take her stuff," her scolded, incredulously.

"It's her work number," Brennan explained with a scoff, "And a pamphlet for the place she works at. Some kind of restaurant?" Tempe studied the menu items, "I'm not stealing. Just collecting information."

"Let's just hope she doesn't need that paper. C'mon. Get in the car."

She glared at his command, but complied, choosing to ignore his "alpha male complex" for now.

"Another loose end," Brennan growled, as soon as the car started moving back down the gravel driveway.

"I'm sorry, Bones," Booth looked into her eyes, before he turned onto the street.

She looked out the window and avoided his occasional glance in her direction, "I know," she whispered, more to herself than to him, "I know."

Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry. Apologies to all of you who have ever read this fanfic. And great thanks to those who have continued to review and/or subscribe.

I hope that everyone out there who loves Zach as much as I do enjoyed this chapter. I feel it was my best written so far.

Please review and/or subscribe, for you first time readers. And make sure to watch the next episode of Bones, this Thursday at 8 pm!

-Green


	12. Chapter 12

I apologize…profusely for my absence and failure to update. I've been very unfair to all of you. If there's anyone out there _still_ reading this, allow me to beg for my forgiveness.

A lot has happened since last year (I updated in November?). For one, I purchased a new computer and installed Microsoft Office 2007, which I hate with a passion. Can you guys believe that I couldn't even figure out how to print? I must be getting old.

And Bones is back! I can barely believe it. I'm very much enjoying it so far. And for the record, I like Hannah. I really hope that they handle the eventual break-up well…because a break-up IS inevitable. How are you all dealing with the early hiatus? Don't fret, for Bones will be back in a few short weeks!

And to Jepp: I actually did not know the anonymous reviews were disabled! But when realization hit, I enabled them. I appreciate reviews from anyone (and everyone), the account-less included. :)

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Bones. I wish I did, but then again…don't we all?

* * *

"You sure you're alright, Bones?"

The woman turned to her partner with a frustrated sigh, "Yes, Booth! I am perfectly fine. I don't understand why you insist on asking me over and over. I believe one answer should suffice."

He looked at her skeptically.

"What?" If looks could kill, Booth would have been finished years ago.

"Nothing, Bones." He held up his arms in defense as they entered the Jeffersonian, her glare still resting on his moving figure.

Hodgins swung his head of curls in Dr. Brennan's direction as she scanned her card, "Dr. B, any news?" His hopeful look turned to despair as she sighed. "I'll take that as a 'no.'"

"Come on, people. My squints never fail," Cam approached her dwindling team in stride.

"_My _squints never fail," Booth tried to correct his ex. They might prove to be a pain in the ass, but he was proud to call them his. Not that he would outwardly admit this to anyone. Most already could see that he looked upon the team at the Jeffersonian with utmost respect. "_Camille_," he added on with a smirk, for good measure.

"You forget, _Seeley_," her mouth turned up, slightly, "I _am_ the boss here."

As she walked away, the forensic anthropologist turned to face her partner. "You two should really be more professional. We have an important case at hand. There's no time for distractions. We need to put work before any personal relationships."

"What? Bones, how can you _say_ that?"

Hodgins broke the eerie silence that followed, as he cleared his throat. "I agree with Dr. Brennan…don't shoot me," he backed away from the FBI agent who's hand was slowly twitching towards his gun, "All I care about right now is finding Angela and Zack. We can't get distracted. I mean, I disagree with Dr. B. in some respect. Our work, right now, _is_ personal."

Brennan's smug, victory grin slowly faded as Booth's grew.

"_See_?" The agent had always been so good at pushing her buttons.

"I'm choosing to ignore that last comment for the sake of the case. I need to be free of disruption in order to do my job to the best of my ability."

"_She's avoided me, this time_," Seeley couldn't help but think, "_But not for long…"_

_

* * *

_

She tucked into her cocoon. Her pencil bounced against the table, and her eyes focused on the sets of remains. There was a set of phalanges, a mandible, and now a shattered scapula. It was up to her now…to connect the dots, solve the mystery, save her friends.

Time of death for all three victims was inconclusive. The bones were sterilized to perfection, and without a proper skeleton she supposed the mysteries of those deaths would never be revealed.

A business card, stainless steel cleaner, a gold filling…it wasn't much to go upon. But that's what she did; she made do with information to catch the killer. Why should it be any different now?

She knew the answer.

He settled into an uncomfortable, plastic chair outside of his partner's office. That's what _he_ did. He looked out for her…for all of them. Apparently, he wasn't doing such a hot job. Zach grew farther away without his notice. Angela slipped right through his fingers. God forbid anyone else should get dragged further into the current mess that they were all treading in. Drowning was more like it, he acknowledged in resentment. Why did it have to be like this?

None of the witnesses gave him anything to look into. Sandy, Dr. Calder…both dead ends. There was an astonishing lack of leads in this case. He couldn't really call it a case because it was more personal than that.

He didn't have an answer.

* * *

"There is much that I should probably be telling you, but I fear it will do nothing more than worsen the dangerous situation that I've placed you in."

"Starting with that dream," the woman pressed.

Zack grimaced slightly. "I'd rather not talk about it."

"You don't have to if you don't want to," the artist sighed, "But _Sweetie_, I'm just trying to help. You worry me."

"You should really be more worried about yourself, Angela. I'm the one who got us all into this mess. I'm quite surprised that any of you still care for me after…after what I've done."

"We _love_ you, Zack. You're family. Me, you, Bren, Booth, Cam, Sweets, _Hodgins_," she let out a long breath at the mention of the last, "That's what families do."

"I am aware of the general rules for familialbehavior; those practiced commonly in our society, tribal customs practiced with family members…"

"Yeah, yeah…I've been friends with Brennan long enough to recognize an anthropologically correct answer when I hear one. But I'm talking about the real thing. I mean, you have a huge family, right?"

He nodded, "I do, and I don't doubt that they care for me greatly…in their own way. I've never been the best at expressing my feelings towards them in the same manner. And frankly," he added, "I believe that I fit in more so at the Jeffersonian than I do anywhere else," another paused to look at her compassion filled eyes, "Or…at least I _did_ fit in at the Jeffersonian."

"Oh, _Sweetie_," her eyes glistened with warmth, "You still fit in with us. I mean, you're not the most normal 26 year old genius I've ever known," she held in a chuckle, "But really, are any of us normal? You fit in just fine."

"I'm not particularly worried about not being normal, right now," Zack frowned, "I'm more concerned about being…unworthy, I suppose."

"We all have our wrongs, Zack. Brennan was nearly arrested by her own partner, and her father committed murder and got away with it. She even testified for him. Booth was a sniper. For me…I don't even know where to begin. I've been terrible to Hodgins."

"Angela."

"I mean, I know he's just trying to get this divorce over and done with, but sometimes I just feel like he doesn't trust me anymore."

"Angela?"

"Maybe I shouldn't blame him. But I barely even remember-"

Zach spoke more loudly this time, "I have a plan."

* * *

It's short…terribly short. Half of it has been written for almost a year now, which makes me feel incredibly guilty. Are you still there, my dear reviewers/subscribers?

Many apologies and much love to you all,

GreenK


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